^^^, 


KITIY    AM)    'II IE    SNAKE. 


Fronlispicce. 


THE  SUN  MAID 


A  STORY  OF  FORT  DEARBORN 


BY 
EVELYN   RAYMOND 


AUTHOR   OF        THE    LITTLE    LADV    OF    THE    HORSE,       ETC. 


*#.. 


FORT  DEARBORN 


NEW  YORK 
E.  P.  DUTTON  &  COMPANY 

31  West  Twenty-third  St. 


Copyright,  1900 
E.  P.  DUTTOX  &  CO. 


"Cbe  Tftnfclierboclier  pr?«e,  IRevc  yorl? 


TO  ALL  YOUNG  HEARTS 

IN  THAT  FAIR  CITY  BY  THE  INLAND  SEA 

CHICAGO 


PREFACE. 

IN  some  measure,  the  story  of  the  Sun  Maid  is  an 
allegory. 

Both  the  heroine  and  the  city  of  her  love  grew 
from  insignificant  beginnings;  the  one  into  a  type 
of  broadest  womanhood,  the  other  into  a  grandeur 
which  has  made  it  unique  among  the  cities  of  the 
world. 

Discouragements,  sorrows,  and  seeming  ruin  but 
developed  in  each  the  same  high  attributes  of 
courage,  indomitable  will  power,  and  far-reaching 
sympathy.  The  story  of  the  youth  of  either  would 
be  a  tale  unfinished ;  and  those  who  have  followed, 
with  any  degree  of  interest,  the  fortunes  of  either 
during  any  period  will  keep  that  interest  to  the  end. 

There  are  things  which  never  age.  Such  was  the 
heart  of  the  Maid  who  remained  glad  as  a  girl  to 
the  end  of  her  century,  and  such  the  marvellous 
Chicago  with  a  century  rounded  glory  which  is  still 
the  glory  of  a  youth  whose  future  magnificence  no 
man  can  estimate. 

E.  R.,  Baltimore,  January,  1900. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    AS  THE  Sl'N  WENT  DOWN I 

II.    TWO  FOR  BREAKFAST 13 

III.  IN  INDIAN  ATTIRE 27 

IV.  THE  WHITE  BOW 38 

V.    HORSES  :    WHITE  AND  BLACK 50 

VI.    THE  THREE  GIFTS 64 

VII.    A  THREEFOLD  CORD  IS  STRONGEST            ....  77 

VIII.    AN  ISLAND  RETREAT QI 

IX.    AT  MUCK-OTEY-POKEE I07 

X.    THE  CAVE  OF  REFUGE I24 

XI.    UNDER  A  WHITE  MAN'S  ROOF I38 

XII.    AFTER  FOUR  YEARS I56 

XIII.  THE  HARVESTING 169 

XIV.  ONCE  MORE  IN  THE  OLD  HOME 180 

XV.  PARTINGS  AND  MEETINGS I94 

XVI.  THE  SHUT  AND  THE  OPEN  DOOR 209 

XVII.  A  DAY  OF  HAPPENINGS 23I 

XVIII.  WESTWARD  AND  EASTWARD  OVER    1  HE  PRAIRIE       .            .  247 
XIX.    THE  CROOKED  LOG 260 

XX.    ENEMIES,   SEEN  AND  UNSEEN 272 

XXI.    FAITHFUL  UNTO  DEATH 284 

XXII.  GROWING  UP 296 

XXIII.  HEROES 306 

XXIV.  CONCLUSION 315 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


FORT  DEARBORN Title-page 

BLACK  PARTRIDGE  AND  THE  SUN  MAID 6 

KITTY  AND  THE  SNAKE Frontispiece  22 

THE  GIFT  OF  THE  WHITE  BOW 48 

SNOWBIRD  AND  THE  SUN  MAID 68 

CASPAR  AND  KITTY  REACH  THE  FORT 1S8 

"  KITTY  !    MY  KITTY  !  " 25S 

OSCEOLO  AND  CASPAR 276 


THE  SUN  MAID. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AS   THE   SUN   WENT   DOWN. 

WITH  gloom  in  his  heart,  Black  Partridge 
strode  homeward  along  the  beach  path. 

The  glory  of  a  brilliant  August  sunset  crimsoned 
the  tops  of  the  sandhills  on  the  west  and  the  waters 
of  the  broad  lake  on  the  east ;  but  if  the  preoccupied 
Indian  observed  this  at  all,  it  was  to  see  in  it  an 
omen  of  impending  tragedy.  Red  was  the  color  of 
blood,  and  he  foresaw  that  blood  must  flow,  and 
freely. 

"  They  are  all  fools.  All.  They  know  that 
Black  Partridge  cannot  lie,  yet  they  believe  not  his 
words.  The  white  man  lies,  and  works  his  own 
destruction.     His  doom  be  on  his  head!  " 

As  his  thought  took  this  line  the  chief's  brow 
grew  still  more  stern,  and  an  expression  of  contempt 
curled  the  corners  of  his  wide,  thin  lips.  A  savage 
though  he  was,  at  that  moment  he  felt  himself  im- 
measurably superior  to  the  pale-faces  whom  he  had 
I 


2  The  Sun  Maid. 

known;  and  in  the  consciousness  of  his  integrity  he 
held  his  tall  form  even  more  erect,  while  he  turned 
his  face  toward  the  sky  in  gratitude  to  that  Great 
Spirit  who  had  made  him  what  he  was. 

Then  again  he  remembered  the  past,  and  again 
his  feather-adorned  head  drooped  beneath  its  burden 
of  regret,  while  his  brown  fingers  clasped  and  un- 
clasped themselves  about  a  glittering  medal  which 
decorated  his  necklace,  and  was  the  most  cherished 
of  his  few  possessions. 

"  I  have  worn  it  for  long,  and  it  has  rested  lightly 
upon  my  heart;  but  now  it  becomes  a  knife  that 
pierces.    Therefore  I  must  return  it  whence  it  came." 

Yet  something  like  a  sigh  escaped  him,  and  his 
hands  fell  down  straight  at  his  sides.  Also,  his  nar- 
row eyes  gazed  forward  upon  the  horizon,  absently, 
as  if  their  inward  visions  were  much  clearer  than 
anything  external.  In  this  manner  he  went  onward 
for  a  little  distance,  till  his  moccasined  foot  struck 
sharply  against  something  lying  in  his  path,  and  so 
roused  him  from  his  reverie. 

"  Ugh!  Ugh!  So.  When  the  squaw  dies  the 
papoose  must  suffer." 

The  soft  obstruction  was  a  little  child,  curled  into 
a  rounded  heap,  and  fast  asleep  upon  this  primitive 
public  highway.  The  touch  of  the  red  man's  foot 
had  partially  wakened  the  sleeper,  and  when  he 
bent    and    laid    his    hand    upon  her    shoulder,   she 


As  the  Sun  Went  Down,  3 

sprang  up  lightly,  at  once  beginning  to  laugh  and 
chatter  with  a  gayety  that  infected  even  the  stolid 
Indian. 

"Ugh!  The  Little-One-Who-Laughs.  Why  are 
you  here  alone,  so  far  from  the  Fort,  Kitty  Bris- 
coe ? " 

"  I  runned  away.  Bunny  rabbit  runned  away. 
I  did  catch  him  two  times,  I  did  find  some  posies, 
all  yellow  and  round  and — posies  runned  away,  too. 
Ain't  that  funny  ?     Kitty  go  seek  them." 

Her  laughter  trilled  out,  bird  clear,  and  a  mis- 
chievous twinkle  lighted  her  big  blue  eyes. 

"  I  runned  away.  Bunny  rabbit  runned  to  catch 
me.  I  runned  to  catch  bunny.  I  caught  the  posies. 
Yellow  posies  gone— I  go  find  them,  too." 

As  if  it  were  the  best  joke  in  the  world,  the  little 
creature  still  laughed  over  her  own  conceit  of  so 
many  runnings  till,  in  whirling  about,  she  discovered 
the  remnants  of  the  flowers  she  had  lost  upon  the 
heat-hardened  path  behind  her.  Indeed,  when  she 
had  dropped  down  to  sleep,  overcome  by  sudden 
weariness,  it  had  been  with  the  cool  leaves  and 
blossoms  for  a  couch.  Now  the  love  of  all  green 
and  growing  things  was  an  inborn  passion  with  this 
child,  and  her  face  sobered  to  a  keen  distress  as  she 
gazed  upon  her  ruined  treasures.  But  almost  at 
once  the  cloud  passed,  and  she  laughed  again. 

Poor  posies,   tired  posies,    sleepy,   too.      Kitty 


4  The  Sun  Maid. 

sorry.  Put  them  in  the  water  trough  and  wake 
them  up.  Then  they  hold  their  eyes  open,  just 
like  Kitty's." 

"  Ugh!  Where  the  papoose  sleeps  the  blossoms 
wither,"  remarked  Black  Partridge,  regarding  the 
bruised  and  faded  plants  with  more  attention. 
They  were  wild  orchids,  and  he  knew  that  the  child 
must  have  wandered  far  afield  to  obtain  them.  At 
that  time  of  year  such  blooms  were  extremely  rare, 
and  only  to  be  found  in  the  moist  shadows  of  some 
tree-bordered  stream  quite  remote  from  this  sandy 
beach. 

"  Oh,  dear!  Something  aches  my  feet.  I  will 
go  home  to  my  little  bed.  Pick  up  the  posies, 
Feather-man,  and  take  poor  Kitty." 

With  entire  confidence  that  the  Indian  would  do 
as  she  wished,  the  small  maid  clasped  his  buckskin- 
covered  knee  and  leaned  her  dimpled  cheek  against 
it.  It  proved  a  comfortable  support,  and  with  a 
babyish  yawn  she  promptly  fell  asleep  again. 

Had  she  been  a  child  of  his  own  village,  even  of 
his  own  wigwam.  Black  Partridge  would  have  shaken 
her  roughly  aside,  feeling  his  dignity  affronted  by 
her  familiarity;  but  in  her  case  he  could  not  do 
this  and  on  this  night  least  of  all. 

The  little  estray  was  the  orphan  of  Fort  Dear- 
born ;  whose  soldier  father  had  met  a  soldier's  com- 
mon fate,  and  whose  mother  had  quickly  followed 


As  the  Sun  Went  Down.  5 

him  with  her  broken  heart.  Then  the  babe  of  a 
few  weeks  became  the  charge  of  the  kind  women  at 
the  Fort,  and  the  pet  of  the  garrison  in  general. 

But  now  far  graver  matters  than  the  pranks  of  a 
mischievous  child  filled  the  minds  of  all  her  friends. 
The  peaceful,  monotonous  life  of  the  past  few  years 
was  over,  and  the  order  had  gone  forth  that  the 
post  should  be  evacuated.  Preparations  had  already 
begun  for  the  long  and  hazardous  journey  which 
confronted  that  isolated  band  of  white  people,  and 
the  mothers  of  a  score  of  other  restless  young  folk 
had  been  too  busy  and  anxious  to  notice  when  this 
child  slipped  away  to  wander  on  the  prairie. 

For  a  brief  time  the  weary  baby  slumbered  against 
the  red  man's  knee,  while  he  considered  the  course 
he  would  best  pursue  ;  whether  to  return  her  at  once 
to  the  family  of  the  commandant,  or  to  carry  her 
southward  to  the  Pottawatomie  lodge  whither  he 
was  bound.  Then,  his  decision  made,  he  lifted  the 
child  to  his  breast  and  resumed  his  homeward 
way. 

But  the  bright  head  pillowed  so  near  his  eyes 
seemed  to  dazzle  him,  and  its  floating  golden  locks 
to  catch  and  hold,  in  a  peculiar  fashion,  the  rays 
of  the  sunset.  From  this,  with  his  race  instinct  of 
poetic  imagery,  which  finds  in  nature  a  type  for 
everything,  he  caught  a  quaint  suggestion. 

"  She  is  like  the  sun  himself.     She  is  all  warmth 


6  The  Sun  Maid. 

and  brightness.  She  is  his  child,  now  that  her  pale- 
faced  parents  sleep  the  long  sleep,  and  none  other 
claims  her.  None  ?  Yes,  one.  I,  Black  Partridge, 
the  Man-Who-Lies-Not.  In  my  village,  Muck- 
otey-pokee,  lives  my  sister,  the  daughter  of  a  chief, 
her  whose  one  son  died  of  the  fever  on  that  same 
dark  night  when  the  arrow  of  a  Sioux  warrior  killed 
a  brave,  his  sire.  In  her  closed  tepee  there  will 
again  be  light.  The  Sun  Maid  shall  make  it.  So 
shall  she  escape  the  fate  of  the  doomed  pale-faces, 
and  so  shall  the  daughter  of  my  house  again  be  glad. 

Thus,  bearing  her  new  name,  and  all  uncon- 
sciously, the  little  Sun  Maid  was  carried  southward 
and  still  southward  till  the  twilight  fell  and  her  new 
guardian  reached  the  Pottawatomie  village,  on  the 
Illinois  prairie,  where  he  dwelt. 

Sultry  as  the  night  was,  there  was  yet  a  great 
council  fire  blazing  in  the  midst  of  the  settlement, 
and  around  this  were  grouped  many  young  braves 
of  the  tribe.  Before  the  arrival  of  their  chief  there 
had  been  a  babel  of  tongues  in  the  council,  but  all 
discussion  ceased  as  he  joined  the  circle  in  the  fire- 
light. 

The  sudden  silence  was  ominous,  and  the  wise 
leader  understood  it;  but  it  was  not  his  purpose 
then  to  quarrel  with  any  man.  Ignoring  the  scowl- 
ing glances  bestowed  upon  him,  he  gave  the  custom- 
ary evening  salutation   and,   advancing  directly  to 


A(  K    lARIRIDGE    AND    THE    SUN    MAID.  Filled. 


As  the  Sun  Went  Down.  7 

the  fire,  plucked  a  blazing  fagot  from  it.  This  he 
lifted  high  and  purposely  held  so  that  its  brightness 
illuminated  the  face  and  figure  of  the  child  upon  his 
breast. 

A  guttural  exclamation  of  astonishment  ran  from 
brave  to  brave.  The  action  of  their  chief  was 
significant,  but  its  meaning  not  clearly  compre- 
hended. Had  he  brought  the  white  baby  as  a 
hostage  from  the  distant  garrison,  in  pledge  that 
the  compact  of  its  commandant  would  surely  be 
kept  ?  Or  had  some  other  tribe  anticipated  their 
own  in  obtaining  the  gifts  to  be  distributed  ? 

Shut-Hand,  one  of  the  older  warriors,  whose 
name  suggested  his  character,  rose  swiftly  to  his 
feet,  and  demanded  menacingly : 

"  What  means  our  father,  thus  bringing  hither 
the  white  papoose  ?  " 

"  That  which  the  Black  Partridge  does — he  does." 

Rebuked,  but  unsatisfied,  the  miserly  inquirer  sat 
down.  Then,  with  a  gesture  of  protection,  the 
chief  raised  the  sleeping  little  one,  that  all  within 
the  circle  might  better  see  her  wonderful,  glowing 
beauty,  intensified  as  it  was  by  the  flare  of  the 
flames  as  well  as  by  contrast  to  the  dusky  faces 
round  about. 

Who  suffers  harm  to  her  shall  himself  suffer. 
She  is  the  Sun  Maid,  the  new  daughter  of  our 
tribe." 


8  The  Sun  Maid. 

Having  said  this,  and  still  carrying  the  burning 
fagot,  he  walked  to  the  closed  tepee  of  his  widowed 
sister  and  lifted  its  door  flap.  Stooping  his  tall 
head  till  its  feathered  crest  swept  the  floor  he 
entered  the  spacious  lodge.  But  he  sniffed  with 
contempt  at  the  stifling  atmosphere  within,  and 
laying  down  his  torch  raised  the  other  half  of  the 
entrance  curtain. 

At  the  back  of  the  wigwam,  crouching  in  the 
attitude  she  had  sustained  almost  constantly  since 
her  bereavement,  sat  the  Woman-Who-Mourns. 
She  did  not  lift  her  head,  or  give  any  sign  of  wel- 
come till  the  chief  had  crossed  to  her  side,  and  in  a 
tone  of  command  bade  her: 

"  Arise  and  listen,  my  sister,  for  I  bring  you  joy." 

"  There  is  no  joy,"  answered  the  woman, 
obediently  lifting  her  tall  figure  to  a  rigidly  erect 
posture;  by  long  habit  compelled  to  outward  re- 
spect, though  her  heart  remained  indifferent. 

"  Put  back  the  hair  from  your  eyes.  Behold. 
For  the  dead  son  I  give  you  the  living  daughter. 
In  that  land  to  which  both  have  gone  will  her  lost 
mother  care  for  your  lost  child  as  you  now  care  for 
her. ' ' 

Slowly,  a  pair  of  lean,  brown  hands  came  out 
from  the  swathing  blanket  and  parted  the  long  locks 
that  served  as  a  veil  to  hide  a  haggard,  sorrowful 
face.      After  the  deep  gloom  the  sudden   firelight 


As  the  Sun  Went  Down.  9 

dazzled  the  woman's  sight,  and  she  bHnked  curiously 
toward  the  burden  upon  her  brother's  breast.  Then 
the  small  eyes  began  to  see  more  clearly  and  to 
evince  the  amazement  that  filled  her. 

"  Dreams  have  been  with  me.  They  were  many 
and  strange.     Is  this  another  ?  " 

"  This  a  glad  reality.  It  is  the  Sun  Maid.  She 
has  no  parents.  You  have  no  child.  She  is  yours. 
Take  her  and  learn  to  laugh  once  more  as  in  the 
days  that  are  gone." 

Then  he  held  the  little  creature  toward  her;  and 
still  amazed,  but  still  obedient,  the  heart-broken 
squaw  extended  her  arms  and  received  the  uncon- 
scious foundling.  As  the  warm,  soft  flesh  touched 
her  own  a  thrill  passed  through  her  desolate  heart, 
and  all  the  tenderness  of  motherhood  returned. 

"  Who  is  she  ?  Whence  did  she  come  ?  Where 
will  she  go  ?  " 

"  She  is  the  Sun  Maid.  From  the  Fort  by  the 
great  lake,  where  are  still  white  men  enough  to  die 
— as  die  they  must.  For  there  is  treachery  afoot, 
and  they  who  were  first  treacherous  must  bear  their 
own  punishment.  Only  she  shall  be  saved ;  and 
where  she  will  go  is  in  the  power  of  the  Woman- 
Who-Mourns,  and  of  her  alone." 

Without  another  word,  and  leaving  the  still  blaz- 
ing fagot  lying  on  the  earthen  floor,  the  chief  went 
swiftly  away. 


lO  The  Sun  Maid. 

But  he  had  brought  fresh  air  and  light  and  com- 
fort with  him,  as  he  had  prophesied.  The  small 
Sun  Maid  was  already  brightening  the  dusky  lodge 
as  might  an  actual  ray  from  her  glorious  namesake. 

It  was  proof  of  her  utter  exhaustion  that  she  still 
slept  soundly  while  her  new  foster-mother  prepared 
a  bed  of  softest  furs  spread  over  fresh  green  branches 
and  went  hurriedly  out  to  beg  from  a  neighbor 
squaw  a  draught  of  evening's  milk.  This  action  in 
itself  was  sufficiently  surprising  to  set  all  tongues 
a-chatter. 

The  lodge  of  Muck-otey-pokee  had  many  of  the 
comforts  common  to  the  white  men's  settlements. 
Its  herd  of  cattle  even  surpassed  that  at  Fort  Dear- 
born itself,  and  was  a  matter  of  no  small  pride  to 
the  Pottawatomie  villagers.  From  the  old  mission 
fathers  they  had  learned,  also,  some  useful  arts,  and 
wherever  their  prairie  lands  were  tilled  a  rich  result 
was  always  obtainable. 

So  it  was  to  a  home  of  plenty,  as  well  as  safety, 
that  Black  Partridge  had  brought  the  little  Sun 
Maid  ;  and  when  she  at  length  awoke  to  see  a  dusky 
face,  full  of  wonderment  and  love,  bending  above 
her,  she  put  out  her  arms  and  gurgled  in  a  glee 
which  brought  an  answering  smile  to  lips  that  had 
not  smiled  for  long. 

With  an  instinct  of  yearning  tenderness,  the 
Woman-Who-Mourns   had    lightened    her    sombre 


As  the  Sun  Went  Down.  1 1 

attire  by  all  the  devices  possible,  so  that  while  the 
child  slept  she  had  transformed  herself.  She  had 
neatly  plaited  her  heavy  hair,  and  wound  about  her 
head  some  strings  of  gay  beads.  She  had  fastened 
a  scarlet  tanager's  wing  to  her  breast,  now  covered 
by  a  bright-hued  cotton  gown  once  sent  her  from 
the  Fort,  and  for  which  she  had  discarded  her  dingy 
blanket.  But  the  greatest  alteration  of  all  was  in 
the  face  itself,  where  a  dawning  happiness  brought 
out  afresh  all  the  good  points  of  a  former  comeli- 
ness. 

"Oh!  Pretty!  I  have  so  many,  many  nice 
mammas.     Are  you  another  ?  " 

"  Yes.  All  your  mother  now.  My  Sun  Maid. 
My  Girl-Child.      My  papoose  !  " 

That  is  nice.  But  I  'm  hungry.  Give  me  my 
breakfast,  Other  Mother.  Then  I  will  go  seek  my 
bunny  rabbit,  that  runned  away,  and  my  yellow 
posies  that  went  to  sleep  when  I  did.  Did  you  put 
them  to  bed,  too.  Other  Mother  ?  " 

"  There  are  many  which  shall  wake  for  you, 
papoose,"  answered  the  woman,  promptly;  for 
though  she  did  not  understand  about  the  missing 
blossoms,  it  was  fortunate  that  she  did  both  under- 
stand and  speak  the  language  of  her  adopted 
daughter.  Her  dead  husband  had  been  the  tribe's 
interpreter,  and  both  from  him  and  from  the  Fort's 
chaplain  she  had  acquired  considerable  knowledge. 


12  The  Sun  Maid. 

Until  her  widowhood  and  voluntary  seclusion  the 
Woman-Who-Mourns  had  been  a  person  of  note  at 
Muck-otey-pokee;  and  now  by  her  guardianship  of 
this  stranger  white  child  she  bade  fair  to  again 
become  such. 


CHAPTER  II. 

TWO   FOR   BREAKFAST. 

THE  dead  son  of  the  Woman-Who-Mourns  had 
never  been  disobedient,  and  small  Kitty  Bris- 
coe had  never  obeyed  anybody.  She  had  laughed 
and  frolicked  her  way  through  all  rules  and  over  all 
obstacles  with  a  merry  indifference  that  would  have 
been  insolent  had  it  been  less  innocent  and  charm- 
ing. During  her  short  life  the  orphan  had  heard  no 
voice  but  was  full  of  tenderness,  toward  her  at 
least ;  and  every  babyish  misdemeanor  had  been 
pardoned  almost  before  it  was  committed,  by  reason 
of  her  exceeding  loveliness  and  overflowing  affec- 
tion. She  had  so  loved  all  that  she  feared  none, 
and  not  one  of  the  kind  mothers  at  the  Fort  had 
felt  it  her  especial  duty  to  discipline  so  sweet  and 
fearless  a  nature.  By  and  by,  when  she  grew  older, 
why,  of  course,  the  child  must  come  under  the 
yoke,  like  other  children  of  that  stern  generation ; 
but  for  the  present,  what  was  she  but  an  ignorant 
baby,  a  motherless  babe  at  that  ? 

So    that,    on    that    first    morning    of   their   life 
13 


14  The  Sun  Maid. 

together,   it  gave  the  latest    foster-mother    a   very 
decided  shock  when  she  directed : 

Take  your  bowl  of  suppawn  and  milk,  and  eat 
it  here  by  the  fire,  Girl-Child,"  to  have  the  other 
reply,  with  equal  decision  : 

"  Kitty  will  take  it  to  the  out-doors." 

How  ?  The  papoose  must  eat  her  breakfast 
here,  as  I  command." 

"  But  Kitty  must  take  it  out  the  doors.  What 
will  the  pigeons  say  ?  Come  with  me.  Other 
Mother." 

Quite  to  her  own  astonishment,  the  proud  daugh- 
ter of  a  chief  complied.  Superstition  had  suggested 
to  her  that  this  white-robed  little  creature,  with  her 
trustful  eyes  and  her  wonderful  hair,  who  seemed 
rather  to  float  over  the  space  to  the  threshold  than 
to  tread  upon  the  earthen  floor,  was  the  re-embodied 
spirit  of  her  own  lost  child  come  back  to  comfort 
her  sorrow  and  to  be  a  power  for  good  in  her  tribe. 

But  if  the  Sun  Maid  were  a  spirit,  she  had  many 
earthly  qualities ;  and  with  a  truly  human  carelessness 
she  had  no  sooner  stepped  beyond  the  tent  flap  than 
she  let  fall  her  heavy  bowl  and  spilled  her  breakfast. 
For  there  stood  her  last  night's  rescuer,  his  arms 
full  of  flowers. 

"  Oh,  the  posies!  the  posies!  Nice  Feather-man 
did  bring  them." 

"  Ugh!      Black  Partridge,    the  Truth-Teller.     I 


Two  for  Breakfast.  15 

have  come  to  take  my  leave.  Also  to  ask  you,  mj- 
sister,  shall  I  carry  away  the  Sun  Maid  to  her  own 
people  ?     Or  shall  she  abide  with  you  ?  " 

"  Take  her  away,  my  brother  ?  Do  you  not 
guess,  then,  who  she  is  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  guess  when  I  know.  I  saw  her 
father  die,  and  I  stood  beside  her  mother's  grave. 
The  white  papoose  has  neither  tribe  nor  kinsman." 

"  There  for  once  the  Truth-Teller  speaks  un- 
wisely. The  Sun  Maid,  whom  you  found  asleep  on 
the  path,  is  my  own  flesh  and  blood." 

In  surprise  Black  Partridge  stared  at  the  woman, 
whose  face  glowed  with  delight.  Then  he  reflected 
that  it  would  be  as  well  to  leave  her  undisturbed  in 
her  strange  notion.  The  helpless  little  one  would 
be  the  better  cared  for,  under  such  circumstances, 
and  the  time  might  speedily  come  when  she  would 
need  all  the  protection  possible  for  anybody  to  give. 

"  It  is  well  —  as  you  believe;  yet  then  you  are  no 
longer  the  Woman-Who-Mourns,  but  again  Wah- 
neenah,  the  Happy," 

For  a  moment  they  silently  regarded  the  child 
who  had  thrown  herself  face  downward  upon  the 
great  heap  of  orchids  that  Black  Partridge  had 
brought,  and  which  he  had  risen  very  early  to 
gather.  They  were  of  the  same  sort  that  the  little 
one  had  grieved  over  on  the  night  before,  only 
much  larger  and  fairer,  and  of  far  greater  number. 


1 6  The  Sun  Maid. 

Talking  to  the  blossoms  and  caressing  them  as  if 
they  were  human  playmates,  the  Sun  Maid  forgot 
that  she  was  hungry,  until  Wahneenah  had  brought 
a  second  bowl  of  porridge  and,  gently  lifting  her 
charge  to  a  place  upon  the  mat,  had  bidden  her  eat. 

"  Oh,  yes!  My  breakfast.  I  did  forget  it, 
did  n't  I  ?  Oh,  the  darling  posies!  Oh!  the 
pretty  Feather-man,  that  could  n't  tell  a  naughty 
story.  I  know  'bout  him.  We  all  know  'bout  him 
to  our  Fort.  My  Captain  says  he  is  the  bestest 
Feather-man  in  all  the — everywhere." 

"Ugh!     Ugh!" 

The  low  grunt  of  assent  seemed  to  come  from 
every  side  the  big  wigwam.  At  all  times  there  were 
many  idle  Indians  at  Muck-otey-pokee,  but  of  late 
their  number  had  been  largely  increased  by  bands 
of  visiting  Pottawatomies.  These  had  come  to 
tarry  with  their  tribesmen  in  the  village  till  the  dis- 
tribution of  goods  should  be  made  from  Fort  Dear- 
born, as  had  been  ordered  by  General  Hull;  or  until 
the  hour  was  ripe  for  their  treacherous  assault  upon 
the  little  garrison. 

The  Man-Who-Kills  was  in  the  very  centre  of  the 
group  which  had  squatted  in  a  semi-circle  as  near  as 
it  dared  before  the  tepee  of  their  chief's  sister,  and 
the  low  grunts  came  from  this  band  of  spectators. 

We  will  sit  and  watch.     So  will  we  learn  what 
the   Black    Partridge    means,"    and    when    Spotted 


Two  for  Breakfast.  17 

Rabbit  so  advised  his  brothers,  they  had  come  in 
the  darkness  and  arranged  themselves  as  has  been 
described. 

The  chief  had  found  them  there  when,  before 
dawn,  he  came  with  his  offering  of  flowers,  and 
Wahneenah  had  seen  them  when  she  raised  the  cur- 
tain of  her  tent  and  looked  out  to  learn  what  maimer 
of  day  was  coming.  But  neither  had  noticed  them 
any  more  than  they  did  the  birds  rustling  in  the 
Cottonwood  beside  the  wigwam,  or  the  wild  creatures 
skurrying  across  the  path  for  their  early  drink  at  the 
stream  below. 

Neither  had  the  Sun  Maid  paid  them  any  atten- 
tion, for  she  had  always  been  accustomed  to  meet- 
ing the  savages  both  at  the  Fort  and  on  her  rides 
abroad  with  any  of  her  garrison  friends;  so  she 
deliberately  sipped  her  breakfast,  pausing  now 
and  then  to  arrange  the  pouch-like  petals  of  some 
favored  blossoms  and  to  converse  with  them  in  her 
fantastic  fashion,  quite  believing  that  they  heard 
and  understood. 

Did  the  nice  Feather-man  bring  you  all  softly, 
little  posies  ?  Are  n't  you  glad  you  've  come  to 
live  with  Kitty  ?  Other  Mother  will  give  you  all 
some  breakfast,  too,  of  coldest  water  in  the  brook. 
Then  you  will  sit  up  straight  and  hold  your  heads 
high.  That  's  the  way  the  children  do  when  my 
Captain  takes  the  book  with  the  green  cover  and 


i8  The  Sun  Maid. 

makes  them  spell  things  out  of  it.  Oscar  does  n't 
like  the  green  book.  It  makes  him  wriggle  his  nose 
— so;  but  Margaret  is  as  fond  of  it  as  I  am  of  you. 
Oh,  dear!  Some  day,  all  my  mothers  say,  I,  too, 
will  have  to  sit  and  look  on  the  printing  and  spell 
words.  I  can,  though,  even  now.  Listen,  posies. 
D-o-g — that  's — that  's — I  guess  it  's  '  cat.'  Is  n't 
it,  posies  ?  But  you  don't  have  to  spell  things,  do 
you  ?  I  need  n't  either.  Not  to-day,  and  maybe 
not  to-morrow  day.  Because,  you  see,  I  runned 
away.  Oh,  how  I  did  run !  So  fast,  so  far,  before 
I  found  your  little  sisters,  posies,  dear.  Then  I 
guess  I  went  to  sleep,  without  ever  saying  my 
'  Now  I  lay  me,'  and  the  black  Feather-man  came, 
and — that  's  all." 

Wahneenah  had  gone  back  to  her  household 
duties,  for  she  had  many  things  on  hand  that  day. 
Not  the  least,  to  make  her  neglected  tepee  a 
brighter,  fitter  home  for  this  stray  sunbeam  which 
the  Great  Spirit  had  sent  to  her  out  of  the  sky,  and 
into  which  He  had  breathed  the  soul  of  her  lost  one. 
Indistinctly,  she  heard  the  murmuring  of  the  baby- 
ish voice  at  the  threshold  and  occasionally  caught 
some  of  the  words  it  uttered.  These  served  but  to 
establish  her  in  her  belief  that  the  child  had  more 
than  mortal  senses;  else  how  should  she  fancy  that 
the  blossoms  would  hear  and  understand  her  prattle  ? 
Listen.      She  talks  to  the  weeds  as  the  white 


Two  for  Breakfast.  19 

men  talk  to  us.  She  is  a  witch,"  said  the  Man- 
Who-Kills  to  his  neighbor  in  the  circle,  the  White 
Pelican. 

"  She  is  only  a  child  of  the  pale-faces.  The 
Black  Partridge  has  set  her  among  us  to  move  our 
hearts  to  pity." 

"  The  White  Pelican  was  ever  a  coward,"  snorted 
the  Man-Who-Kills. 

But  the  younger  warrior  merely  turned  his  head 
and  smiled  contemptuously.  Then  he  critically 
scrutinized  the  ill-proportioned  figure  of  the  ugly- 
tempered  brave.  The  fellow's  crooked  back,  ab- 
normally long  arms  and  short  legs  were  an  anomaly 
in  that  race  of  stalwart  Indians,  and  the  soul  of  the 
savage  corresponded  to  his  outward  development. 
For  his  very  name  had  been  given  him  in  derision ; 
because,  though  he  always  threatened  and  always 
sneaked  after  his  prey,  he  had  never  been  known  to 
slay  an  enemy  in  open  combat. 

"  That  is  as  the  tomahawks  prove.  The  scalps 
hang  close  on  the  pole  of  my  wigwam,"  finally 
remarked  the  Pelican. 

Ugh  !  But  there  was  never  such  a  scalp  as  that 
of  the  papoose  yonder.  It  shall  hang  above  all 
others  in  my  tepee.     I  have  said  it." 

Having  said  it,  you  may  unsay  it.     That  is  no 

human  fleece  upon  that  small  head.     She  is  sacred." 

How  ?    Is  the  White  Pelican  a  man  of  dreams?  " 


20  The  Sun  Maid. 

The  elder  brave  also  used  a  tone  of  contempt, 
though  not  with  marked  success.  His  thought 
reverted  to  the  night  before,  when  the  chief  had 
stood  beside  the  council  fire  holding  the  sleeping 
child  in  his  arms.  Her  wonderful  yellow  hair,  fine 
as  spun  cobwebs  and  almost  as  light,  had  blown 
over  the  breast  of  Black  Partridge  like  a  cloud,  and 
it  had  glistened  and  shimmered  in  the  firelight  as  if 
possessed  of  restless  life.  The  little  figure  was 
clothed  in  white,  as  the  Fort  mothers  had  fancied 
best  suited  their  charge's  fairness,  even  though  the 
fabric  must  of  necessity  be  coarse;  and  this  garment 
likewise  caught  the  glow  of  the  dancing  flames  till 
it  seemed  luminous  in  itself. 

As  an  idle  rumor  spreads  and  grows  among  better 
cultured  people  so  superstition  held  in  power  these 
watchful  Indians.     Said  one: 

"  The  father  of  his  tribe  has  met  a  spirit  on  the 
prairie  and  brought  it  to  our  village.  Is  the  deed 
for  good  or  evil  ?  " 

This  was  what  the  men  in  the  semi-circle  had 
come  to  find  out.  So  they  relapsed  again  into 
silence,  but  kept  a  fixed  gaze  upon  the  indifferent 
child  before  them.  She  continued  her  playing  and 
feeding  as  unconsciously  as  if  she,  the  flowers,  and 
the  sunshine,  were  quite  alone.  Some  even  fancied 
that  they  could  hear  the  orchids  whispering  in  re- 
turn; and  it   was  due  to   that   morning's  incident 


Two  for  Breakfast.  21 

that,  thereafter,  few  among  the  Pottawatomies 
would  h'ghtly  bruise  or  break  a  blossom  which  they 
then  learned  to  believe  was  gifted  with  a  sensate 
life. 

But  presently  a  sibilant  "  Hst!  "  ran  the  length 
of  the  squatting  line,  and  warriors  who  feared  not 
death  for  themselves  felt  their  muscles  stiffen  under 
a  tension  of  dread  as  they  saw  the  slow,  sinuous  ap- 
proach of  a  poisonous  reptile  to  the  child  on  the 
mat;  and  the  thought  of  each  watcher  was  the 
same: 

"  Now,  indeed,  the  test — spirit  or  mortal  ?  " 

The  snake  glided  onward,  its  graceful  body  show- 
ing through  the  grass,  its  head  slightly  upraised, 
and  its  intention  unmistakable. 

An  Indian  can  be  the  most  silent  thing  on  earth, 
if  he  so  wills,  and  at  once  it  was  as  if  all  that  row 
of  red  men  had  become  stone.  Even  Wahneenah, 
in  the  wigwam  behind,  was  startled  by  the  stillness, 
and  cautiously  tiptoed  forward  to  learn  its  cause. 
Then  her  heart,  like  theirs,  hushed  its  beating  and 
she  rigidly  awaited  the  outcome. 

Only  the  child  herself  was  undisturbed.  She  did 
not  cease  the  slow  lifting  of  the  clay  spoon  to  her 
lips,  and  between  sips  she  still  prattled  and  gurgled 
in  sheer  content. 

Kitty  is  most  fulled  up,  'cause  she  did  have  so 
big  a  breakfast,  she  did.     Nice  Other  Mother  did 


22  The  Sun  Maid. 

give  it  me.  I  wish  my  bunny  rabbit  had  not  runned 
away.  Then  he  could  have  some.  Never  mind. 
Here  comes  a  beau'ful  cunning  snake.  I  did  see 
one  two  times  to  my  Fort.  Bad  Jacky  soldier  did 
kill  him  dead,  and  that  made  Kitty  cry.  Come, 
pretty  thing,  do  you  want  Kitty's  breakfast  ?  Then 
you  may  have  it  every  bit." 

So  she  tossed  her  hair  from  her  eyes  and  sat  with 
uplifted  spoon  while  the  moccasin  glided  up  to  the 
mat  and  over  it,  till  its  mouth  could  reach  the  shal- 
low bowl  in  the  child's  lap. 

"  Oh!  the  funny  way  it  eats.  Poor  thing!  It 
has  n't  any  spoon.  It  might  have  Kitty's, 
only ' ' 

The  bright  eyes  regarded  the  rudely  shaped  im- 
plement and  the  mouth  it  was  to  feed ;  then  the 
little  one's  ready  laughter  bubbled  forth. 

"  Funny  Kitty!  How  could  it  hold  a  spoon  was 
bigger  'n  itself — when  its  hands  have  never  grown  ? 
Other  pretty  one,  that  Jacky  killed,  that  did  n't 
have  its  hands,  either.  Hush,  snaky.  Did  I  make 
you  afraid,  I  laugh  so  much  ?  Now  I  will  keep 
very,  very  still  till  you  are  through.  Then  you  may 
go  back  home  to  your  childrens,  and  tell  them  all 
about  your  nice  breakfast.  Where  do  you  live  ?  Is 
it  in  a  Fort,  as  Kitty  does  ?  Oh,  I  forgot!  I  did 
promise  to  keep  still.  Quite,  quite  still,  till  you  go 
way  away." 


Two  for  Breakfast.  23 

So  she  did ;  while  not  only  the  red-skins,  but  all 
nature  seemed  to  pause  and  watch  the  strange  spec- 
tacle ;  for  the  light  breeze  that  had  come  with  the 
sunrise  now  died  away,  and  every  leaf  stood  still  in 
the  great  heat  which  descended  upon  the  earth. 

It  seemed  to  Wahneenah,  watching  in  a  very 
motherly  fear,  and  to  the  squatting  braves,  in  their 
increasing  awe,  as  if  hours  passed  while  the  child 
and  the  reptile  remained  messmates.  But  at  length 
the  dangerous  serpent  was  satisfied  and,  turning 
slowly  about,  retreated  whence  it  came. 

Then  Mistress  Kitty  lifted  her  voice  and  called 
merrily : 

"  Come,  Other  Mother!  Come  and  see.  I  did 
have  a  lovely,  lovely  creepy  one  to  eat  with  me. 
He  did  eat  so  funny  Kitty  had  to  laugh.  Then  I 
remembered  that  my  other  peoples  to  my  Fort  tell 
all  the  children  to  be  good  and  I  was  good,  was  n't 
I  ?  Say,  Other  Mother,  my  posies  want  some 
water." 

"  They  shall  have  it.  White  Papoose,  my  Girl- 
Child-Who-Is-Safe.  She  whom  the  Great  Spirit 
has  restored  nothing  can  harm." 

Then  she  led  the  Sun  Maid  away,  after  she  had 
gathered  up  every  flower,  not  daring  that  anything 
beloved  of  her  strange  foster-child  should  be 
neglected. 

The  watching;  Indians  also  rose  and  returned  into 


24  The  Sun  Maid. 

the  village  from  that  point  on  its  outskirts  where 
Wahneenah's  wigwam  stood.  They  spoke  little, 
for  in  each  mind  the  conviction  had  become  firm 
that  the  Sun  Maid  was,  in  deed  and  truth,  a  being 
from  the  Great  Beyond,  safe  from  every  mortal  hurt. 

Yet  still,  the  Man-Who-Kills  fingered  the  edge  of 
his  tomahawk  with  regret  and  remarked  in  a  man- 
ner intended  to  show  his  great  prowess: 

"  Even  a  mighty  warrior  cannot  fight  against  the 
powers  of  the  sky." 

After  a  little,  one,  less  credulous  than  his  fellows, 
replied  boastfully : 

"  Before  the  sun  shall  rise  and  set  a  second  time 
the  white  scalp  will  hang  at  my  belt." 

Nobody  answered  the  boast  till  at  length  a  voice 
seemed  to  come  out  of  the  ground  before  them,  and 
at  its  first  sound  every  brave  stood  still  to  listen  for 
that  which  was  to  follow.  All  recognized  the  voice, 
even  the  strangers  from  the  most  distant  settle- 
ments. It  was  heard  in  prophecy  only,  and  it  be- 
longed to  old  Katasha,  the  One-Who-Knows. 

"  No.  It  is  not  so.  Long  after  every  one  of  this 
great  Pottawatomie  nation  shall  have  passed  out  of 
sight,  toward  the  place  where  the  day  dies,  the  hair 
of  the  Sun  Maid's  head  shall  be  still  shining.  Its 
gold  will  have  turned  to  snow,  but  generation  after 
generation  shall  bow  down  to  it  in  honor.  Go. 
The  road   is  plain.     There   is   blood    upon  it,  and 


Two  for  Breakfast.  25 

some  of  this  is  yours.  But  the  scalp  of  the  Sun 
Maid  is  in  the  keeping  of  the  Great  Spirit.  It  is 
sacred.      It  cannot  be  harmed.     Go." 

Then  the  venerable  woman,  who  had  risen  from 
her  bed  upon  the  ground  to  utter  her  message,  re- 
turned to  her  repose,  and  the  warriors  filed  past  her 
with  bowed  heads  and  great  dejection  of  spirit.  In 
this  mood  they  joined  another  company  about  the 
dead  council  fire,  and  in  angry  resentment  listened 
to  the  speech  of  the  Black  Partridge  as  he  pleaded 
with  them  for  the  last  time. 

"  For  it  is  the  last.  This  day  I  make  one  more 
journey  to  the  Fort,  and  there  I  will  remain  until 
you  join  me.  We  have  promised  safe  escort  for  our 
white  neighbors  through  the  lands  of  the  hostile 
tribes  who  dare  not  wage  war  against  us.  The 
white  man  trusts  us.  He  counts  us  his  friends. 
Shall  we  keep  our  promise  and  our  honor,  or  shall 
we  become  traitors  to  the  truth  ?  " 

It  was  Shut- Hand  who  answered  for  his  tribes- 
men : 

"  It  is  the  pale-face  who  is  a  traitor  to  honesty. 
The  goods  which  our  Great  Father  gave  him  in  trust 
for  his  red  children  have  been  destroyed.  The 
white  soldiers  have  forgotten  their  duty  and  have 
taught  us  to  forget  ours.  When  the  sun  rises  on 
the  morrow  we  will  join  the  Black  Partridge  at  the 
Fort  by  the  great  water,  and  we  will  do  what  seems 


26  The  Sun  Maid. 

right  in  our  eyes.  The  Black  Partridge  is  our  father 
and  our  chief.  He  must  not  then  place  the  good 
of  our  enemies  before  the  good  of  his  own  people. 
We  have  spoken." 

So  the  great  Indian,  who  was  more  noble  than  his 
clansmen,  went  out  from  among  them  upon  a 
hopeless  errand.  This  time  he  did  not  make  his 
journey  on  foot,  but  upon  the  back  of  his  fleetest 
horse ;  and  the  medal  he  meant  to  relinquish  was 
wrapped  in  a  bit  of  deerskin  and  fastened  to  his  belt. 

"  Well,  at  least  the  Sun  Maid  will  be  safe.  When 
the  braves,  with  the  squaws  and  children,  join  their 
brothers  at  the  camp,  Wahneenah  will  remain  at 
Muck-otey-pokee;  as  should  every  other  woman  of 
the  Pottawatomie  nation,  were  I  as  powerful  in 
reality  as  I  appear.  It  is  the  squaws  who  urge  the 
men  to  the  darkest  deeds.  Ugh!  What  will  be 
must  be.     Tchtk!     Go  on!  " 

But  the  bay  horse  was  already  travelling  at  its 
best,  slow  as  its  pace  seemed  to  the  Black  Partridge. 


CHAPTER  in. 

IN   INDIAN   ATTIRE. 

NOT  many  hours  after  Black  Partridge  turned  his 
back  upon  Muck-otey-pokee,  all  its  fighting 
men,  with  their  squaws  and  children,  also  left  it,  as 
their  chief  had  foreseen  they  would.  They  followed 
the  direction  he  had  taken,  though  they  did  not 
proceed  to  the  garrison  itself. 

The  camp  to  which  they  repaired  was  a  little  dis- 
tance from  the  Fort,  and  had  been  pitched  beside  the 
river,  where  was  then  a  fringe  of  cottonwoods  and  lo- 
custs affording  a  grateful  shade.  Here  the  squaws 
cooked  and  gossiped,  while  their  sons  played  the  an- 
cient games  of  throwing  the  spear  through  the  ring, 
casting  the  hatchet,  and  shooting  birds  on  the  wing. 

The  braves  tested  their  weapons  and  boasted  of 
many  valorous  deeds;  or  were  else  entirely  silent, 
brooding  upon  mischief  yet  to  come.  Over  all  was 
the  thrill  of  excitement  and  anticipation,  which  the 
great  heat  of  the  season  seemed  to  deepen  rather 
than  dispel. 

At  the  Fort,  Black  Partridge  pleaded  finally  and 
in  vain. 

27 


28  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  We  have  been  ordered  to  evacuate,  and  we  will 
obey.  All  things  are  in  readiness.  The  stores  are 
already  in  the  wagons,  and  other  wagons  wait  for 
the  sick,  the  women,  and  the  children.  Your 
people  have  promised  us  a  safe  conveyance  through 
their  country,  and  as  far  as  we  shall  need  it.  They 
will  be  well  paid.  Part  they  have  received,  and  the 
rest  of  their  reward  will  be  promptly  delivered  at 
the  end  of  the  journey.  There  is  no  more  to  be 
said  " ;  and  with  this  conclusion  the  weary  com- 
mandant sat  down  in  his  denuded  home  to  take  a 
bit  of  food  and  a  few  moments'  rest.  He  nodded 
hospitably  toward  an  empty  chair  on  the  farther 
side  of  the  deal  table,  by  way  of  invitation  that  the 
Indian  should  join  him,  but  this  the  honest  chief 
declined  to  do. 

"  No,  good  father,  that  can  no  longer  be.  I  have 
come  to  return  you  this  medal.  I  have  worn  it  long 
and  in  peace.  It  was  the  gift  of  your  people,  a 
pledge  between  us  of  friendship.  My  friendship 
remains  unbroken,  but  there  also  remains  a  tie 
which  is  stronger.  I  am  the  chief  of  my  tribe.  My 
young  men  are  brave,  and  they  have  been  deceived. 
They  will  punish  the  deceivers,  and  I  have  no  power 
to  prevent  this.  Nor  do  I  blame  them,  though  I 
would  hold  them  to  their  compact  if  I  could." 

"  Cannot  the  Truth-Teller  compel  his  sons  to  his 
own  habit  ?  " 


In  Indian  Attire.  29 

"  Not  when  his  white  father  sets  them  a  bad 
example." 

"  Black  Partridge,  your  words  are  bold," 

"  Your  deed  was  bolder,  father.  It  was  the  deed 
of  a  fool." 

"  Take  care!  " 

As  if  he  had  not  heard,  the  chief  spoke  steadily 
on: 

"  My  tribesman,  Winnemeg  —  the  white  man's 
friend — brought  the  order  that  all  goods  stored  here 
should  be  justly  distributed  among  my  people,  to 
every  man  his  portion.     Was  it  thus  done  ?  " 

"  Come,  Black  Partridge,  you  are  not  wanting  in 
good  sense  nor  in  honesty.  You  must  adm.it  that 
such  a  course  would  have  been  hazardous  in  the 
extreme.  The  idea  of  putting  liquor  and  ammuni- 
tion into  the  hands  of  the  red-men  was  one  of  utter 
madness.  It  was  worse  than  foolhardy.  The 
broken  firearms  are  safe  in  the  well,  and  the  more 
dangerous  whiskey  has  mingled  itself  harmlessly 
with  the  waters  of  the  river  and  the  lake." 

There  is  something  more  foolish  than  folly," 
said  the  Indian,  gravely,  "  and  that  is  a  lie!  The 
powder  drowned  in  the  well  will  kill  more  pale-faces 
than  it  could  have  done  in  the  hands  of  your  red 
children.  The  river-diluted  whiskey  will  inflame 
more  hot  heads  than  if  it  had  been  dispensed 
honorably  and  in  its  full  strength.     But  now  the 


30  The  Sun  Maid. 

end.  Though  I  will  do  what  I  can  do,  even  the 
Truth-Teller  cannot  fight  treachery.  Prepare  for 
the  worst.     And  so — farewell !  " 

Then  the  tall  chief  bowed  his  head  in  sadness  and 
went  away ;  but  the  terrible  truth  of  what  he  then 
uttered  all  the  world  now  knows. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  almost  empty  village  among 
the  cottonwoods,  the  Sun  Maid  played  and  laughed 
and  chattered  as  she  had  always  done  in  her  old 
home  at  the  Fort.  And  all  day,  those  wiser  women 
like  Wahneenah,  who  had  refrained  from  following 
their  tribe  to  the  distant  camp,  watched  and  attended 
the  child  in  admiring  awe. 

By  nightfall  the  Sun  Maid  had  been  loaded  with 
gifts.  Lahnowenah,  wife  of  the  avaricious  Shut- 
Hand  but  herself  surnamed  the  Giver,  came  earliest 
of  all,  with  a  necklace  of  bears'  claws  and  curious 
shells  which  had  come  from  the  Pacific  slope,  none 
knew  how  many  years  before. 

The  Sun  Maid  received  the  gift  with  delight  and 
her  usual  exclamation  of  "Nice!"  but  when  the 
donor  attempted  to  clasp  the  trinket  about  the  fair  lit- 
tle throat  she  was  met  by  a  decided  :  "  No,  no,  no  !  " 

"  Girl-Child !  All  gifts  are  worthy,  but  this 
woman  has  given  her  best,"  corrected  Wahneenah, 
with  some  sternness.  This  baby  might  be  a  spirit, 
in  truth,  but  it  was  the  spirit  of  her  own  child  and 
she  must  still  hold  it  under  authority. 


In  Indian  Attire.  31 

At  sound  of  the  altered  tones,  Kitty  looked  up 
swiftly  and  her  lip  quivered.  Then  she  replied 
with  equal  decision : 

"  Other  Mother  must  not  speak  to  me  like  that. 
Kitty  is  not  bad.  It  is  a  pretty,  pretty  thing,  but 
it  is  dirty.  It  must  have  its  faces  washed.  Then 
I  will  wear  it  and  love  it  all  my  life." 

An  Indian  girl  would  have  been  punished  for  such 
frankness,  but  Lahnowenah  showed  no  resentment. 
Beneath  her  outward  manner  lay  a  deeper  meaning. 
To  her  the  necklace  was  a  talisman.  From  genera- 
tions long  dead  it  had  come  down  to  her, and  always 
as  a  life-saver.  Whoever  wore  it  could  never  be 
harmed  "  by  hatchet  or  arrow,  nor  by  fire  or  flood." 
Yet  that  very  morning  had  her  own  brother,  the 
Man-Who-Kills,  assured  her  that  the  child's  life 
was  a  doomed  one,  and  she  had  more  faith  in  his 
threats  than  had  his  neighbors  in  their  village.  She 
knew  that  the  one  thing  he  respected  was  this  heir- 
loom, and  that  he  would  not  dare  injure  anybody 
who  wore  it.  The  Sun  Maid  was,  undoubtedly, 
under  the  guardianship  of  higher  powers  than  a 
poor  squaw's,  yet  it  could  harm  nobody  to  take  all 
precautions. 

So,  with  a  grim  smile,  the  donor  carried  her  gift 
to  the  near-by  brook  and  held  it  for  a  few  moments 
beneath  the  sluggish  water;  then  she  returned  to 
the  wigwam  and  again  proffered  it  to  the  foundling. 


32  The  Sun  Maid. 

Yes.  That  is  nice  now.  Kitty  will  wear  it  all 
the  time.  Won't  the  childrens  be  pleased  when 
they  see  it  !  Maybe  they  may  wear  it,  too,  if  the 
dear  blanket  lady  says  they  may.  Can  they,  Other 
Mother  ?" 

The  squaws  exchanged  significant  glances.  They 
knew  it  was  not  probable  that  the  Fort  orphan  and 
her  old  playmates  would  ever  meet  again ;  but 
Wahneenah  answered  evasively : 

"  They  can  wear  it  when  they  come  to  the  Sun 
Maid's  home." 

Again  Lahnowenah  would  have  put  the  necklace 
in  its  place,  and  a  second  time  she  was  prevented ; 
for  at  that  moment  the  One-Who-Knows  came 
slowly  down  the  path  between  the  trees,  and  held 
up  her  crutch  warningly,  as  she  called,  in  her  feeble 
voice: 

"  Wait!  This  is  a  ceremony.  Let  all  the  women 
come." 

Lahnowenah  ran  to  summon  them,  and  they 
gathered  about  the  tepee  in  expectant  silence. 
When  old  Katasha  exerted  herself  it  behooved  all 
the  daughters  of  her  tribe  to  be  in  attendance. 

Wahneenah  hastened  to  spread  her  best  mat  for 
the  visitor's  use,  and  helped  to  seat  her  upon  it. 

"  Ugh!  Old  feet  grow  clumsy  and  old  arms 
weak.  Take  this  bundle,  sister  of  my  chief,  and  do 
with  its  contents  as  seems  right  to  thee." 


In  Indian  Attire.  33 

The  other  squaws  squatted  around,  eagerly 
curious,  while  Wahneenah  untied  the  threads  of 
sinew  which  fastened  the  blanket-wrapped  parcel. 
This  outer  covering  itself  was  different  from  any- 
thing she  had  ever  handled,  being  exquisitely  soft 
in  texture  and  gaudily  bright  in  hue.  It  was  also 
of  a  small  size,  such  as  might  fit  a  child's  shoulders. 

Within  the  blanket  was  a  little  tunic  of  creamy 
buckskin,  gayly  bedecked  with  a  fringe  of  beads 
around  the  neck  and  arms'  eyes,  while  the  short 
skirt  ended  in  a  border  of  fur,  also  bead-trimmed  in 
an  odd  pattern.  With  it  were  tiny  leggings  that 
matched  the  tunic;  and  a  dainty  pair  of  moccasins 
completed  the  costume. 

As  garment  after  garment  was  spread  out  before 
the  astonished  gaze  of  the  squaws  their  exclama- 
tions of  surprise  came  loud  and  fast.  A  group  of 
white  mothers  over  a  fashionable  outfit  for  a  modern 
child  could  not  have  been  more  enthusiastic  or  ex- 
cited. 

Yet  through  all  this  she  who  had  brought  it  re- 
mained stolid  and  silent ;  till  at  length  her  manner  im- 
pressed the  others,and  they  remembered  that  she  had 
said:  "  It  is  a  ceremony."  Then  Wahneenah  mo- 
tioned the  squaws  to  be  silent,  and  demanded  quietly: 

"  What  is  this  that  the  One-Who-Knows  sees 
good  to  be  done  at  the  lodge  of  her  chief's  daugh- 
ter ?  " 


34  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  Take  the  papoose.  Set  her  before  me.  Watch 
and  see." 

Wide-eyed  and  smiling,  and  quite  unafraid,  the 
little  orphan  from  the  Fort  stood, as  she  was  directed, 
close  beside  the  aged  squaw  while  she  was  silently 
disrobed.  Her  baby  eyes  had  caught  the  glitter  of 
beads  on  the  new  garments,  and  there  was  never  a 
girl  -  child  born  who  did  not  like  new  clothes. 
When  she  was  quite  undressed,  and  her  white  body 
shone  like  a  marble  statue  in  contrast  to  their  dusky 
forms,  the  hushed  voices  of  the  Indians  burst  forth 
again  in  a  torrent  of  admiration. 

But  Kitty  was  too  young  to  understand  this,  and 
deemed  it  some  new  game  in  which  she  played  the 
principal  part. 

The  prophetess  held  up  her  hand  and  the  women 
ceased  chattering.  Then  she  pointed  toward  the 
brook  and,  herself  comprehending  what  was  meant 
by  this  gesture,  the  Sun  Maid  ran  lightly  to  the 
bank  and  leaped  in.  With  a  scream  of  fear,  that 
was  very  human  and  mother-like,  Wahneenah  fol- 
lowed swiftly.  For  the  instant  she  had  forgotten 
that  the  merry  little  one  was  a  "  spirit,"  and  could 
not  drown. 

Fortunately,  the  stream  was  not  deep,  and  was 
delightfully  sun-warmed.  Besides,  the  Fort  children 
had  all  been  as  much  at  home  in  the  water  as  on 
the  land  and  a  daily  plunge  had  been  a  matter  of 


In  Indian  Attire.  35 

course.  So  Kitty  laughed  and  clapped  her  hands 
as  she  ducked  again  and  again  into  the  deepest  of 
the  shallow  pools,  splashing  and  gurgling  in  glee, 
till  another  signal  from  the  aged  crone  bade  the 
foster-mother  bring  the  bather  back. 

"  No,  no!  Kitty  likes  the  water.  Kitty  did 
make  the  Feather-lady  wash  the  necklace.  Now 
the  old  Feather-lady  makes  Kitty  wash  Kitty.  No, 
I  do  not  want  to  go.  I  want  to  stay  right  here  in 
the  brook." 

"  But  —  the  beautiful  tunic!  What  about  that, 
papoose  ? " 

It  was  not  at  all  a  "  spiritual  "  argument,  yet  it 
sufificed  ;  and  with  a  spring  the  little  one  was  out  of 
the  water  and  clinging  to  Wahneenah's  breast. 

As  she  was  set  down,  dewy  and  ghstening,  she 
pranced  and  tossed  her  dripping  hair  about  till  the 
drops  it  scattered  touched  some  faces  that  had  not 
known  the  feel  of  water  in  many  a  day.  With  an 
"  Ugh!"  of  disgust  the  squaws  withdrew  to  a  safe 
distance  from  this  unsolicited  bath,  though  remain- 
ing keenly  watchful  of  what  the  One-Who-Knows 
might  do.  This  was,  first,  the  anointing  of  the 
child's  body  with  some  unctuous  substance  that  the 
old  woman  had  brought,  wrapped  in  a  pawpaw  leaf. 

Since  towels  were  a  luxury  unknown  in  the  wilder- 
ness, as  soon  as  this  anointing  was  finished  Katasha 
clothed  the  child  in  her  new  costume  and  laid  her 


36  The  Sun  Maid. 

hand  upon  the  sunny  head,  while  she  muttered  a 
charm  to  "  preserve  it  from  all  evil  and  all  enemies." 
Then,  apparently  exhausted  by  her  own  efforts,  the 
prophetess  directed  Lahnowenah,  the  Giver,  to  put 
on  the  antique  White  Necklace. 

This  was  so  long  that  it  went  twice  about  the 
Sun  Maid's  throat  and  would  have  been  promptly 
pulled  off  by  her  own  fingers,  as  an  adornment  quite 
too  warm  for  the  season  had  not  the  fastening  been 
one  she  could  not  undo  and  the  string,  which  held 
the  ornaments,  of  strong  sinew. 

Then  Wahneenah  took  the  prophetess  into  her 
wigwam,  and  prepared  a  meal  of  dried  venison 
meat,  hulled  corn,  and  the  juice  of  wild  berries 
pressed  out  and  sweetened.  Katasha's  visits  were 
of  rare  occurrence,  and  it  had  been  long  since  the 
Woman-Who-Mourns  had  played  the  hostess,  save 
in  this  late  matter  of  her  foster-child ;  so  for  a  time 
she  forgot  all  save  the  necessity  of  doing  honor  to 
her  guest.  When  she  did  remember  the  Sun  Maid 
and  went  in  anxious  haste  to  the  doorway,  the  child 
had  vanished. 

"  She  is  gone!  The  Great  Spirit  has  recalled 
her!  "  cried  Wahneenah,  in  distress. 

"  Fear  not,  the  White  Papoose  is  safe.  She  will 
live  long  and  her  hands  will  be  full.  As  they  fill 
they  will  overflow.  She  is  a  river  that  enriches  yet 
suffers   no   loss.     Patience.      Patience.      You    have 


In  Indian  Attire.  37 

taken  joy  into  your  home,  but  you  have  also  taken 
sorrow.     Accept  both,  and  wait  what  will  come." 

Even  Wahneenah,  to  whom  many  deferred,  felt 
that  she  herself  must  pay  deference  to  this  vener- 
able prophetess,  and  so  remained  quiet  in  her  wig- 
wam as  long  as  her  guest  chose  to  rest  there.  This 
was  until  the  sun  was  near  its  setting  and  till  the 
foster-mother's  heart  had  grown  sick  with  anxiety. 
So,  no  sooner  had  Katasha's  figure  disappeared 
among  the  trees  than  Wahneenah  set  out  at  frantic 
speed  to  find  the  little  one. 

"  Have  you  seen  the  Sun  Maid  ? "  she  demanded 
of  the  few  she  met ;  and  at  last  one  set  her  on  the 
right  track. 

"  Yes.  She  chased  a  gray  squirrel  that  had  been 
wounded.  It  was  still  so  swift  it  could  just  outstrip 
her,  and  she  followed  beyond  the  village,  away 
along  the  bank.  Osceolo  passed  near,  and  saw  the 
squirrel  seek  refuge  in  the  lodge  of  Spotted  Adder. 
The  Sun  Maid  also  entered." 

"  The  lodge  of  Spotted  Adder!  "  repeated  Wah- 
neenah, slowly.  "  Then  only  the  Great  Spirit  can 
preserve  her!  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   WHITE   BOW. 

WAHNEENAH  had  lived  so  entirely  within 
the  seclusion  of  her  own  lodge  that  she  had 
become  almost  a  stranger  in  the  village.  It  was 
long  since  she  had  travelled  so  far  as  the  isolated 
hut  into  which  the  youth,  Osceolo,  had  seen  the 
Sun  Maid  disappear,  and  as  she  approached  it  her 
womanly  heart  smote  her  with  pain  and  self- 
reproach,  while  she  reflected  thus: 

"  Has  it  come  to  this  ?  Spotted  Adder,  the 
Mighty,  whose  wigwam  was  once  the  richest  of  all 
my  father's  tribe.  I  remember  that  its  curtains  of 
fine  skins  were  painted  by  the  Man-of- Visions  him- 
self, and  told  the  history  of  the  Pottawatomies 
since  the  beginning  of  the  world.  Many  a  heap  of 
furs  and  peltries  went  in  payment  for  their  adorn- 
ment, but — where  are  they  now !  While  I  have  sat 
in  darkness  with  my  sorrow  new  things  have  become 
old.  Yet  he  is  accursed.  Else  the  trouble  would 
not  have  befallen  him.  I  have  heard  the  women  talk- 
ing, through  my  dreams.  He  has  lain  down  and  can- 
not again  arise.  And  the  White  Papoose  is  with  him  ! 
38 


The  White  Bow.  39 

Will  she  be  accursed,  too  ?  Fool !  Why  do  I  fear  ? 
Is  she  not  a  child  of  the  sky,  and  forever  safe,  as 
Katasha  said  ?  But  the  touch  of  her  arms  was 
warm,  like  the  clasp  of  the  son  I  bore,  and " 

The  mother's  reverie  ended  in  a  very  human  dis- 
tress. There  was  a  rumor  among  her  people  that 
whoever  came  near  the  Spotted  Adder  would  in- 
stantly be  infected  by  whatever  was  the  dread  dis- 
ease from  which  he  suffered.  That  the  Sun  Maid's 
wonderful  loveliness  should  receive  a  blemish  seemed 
a  thing  intolerable  and,  in  another  instant,  regardless 
of  her  own  danger,  Wahneenah  had  crept  beneath 
the  broken  flap  of  bark,  into  a  scene  of  squalor  in- 
describable. Even  this  squaw,  who  knew  quite  well 
how  wretched  the  tepees  of  her  poorer  tribesmen 
often  were,  was  appalled  now;  and  though  the  torn 
skins  and  strips  of  bark  which  covered  the  hut 
admitted  plenty  of  light  and  air,  she  gasped  for 
breath  before  she  could  speak. 

"  My  Girl-Child!  My  Sun  Maid!  Come  away. 
Wrong,  wrong  to  have  entered  here,  to  have  made 
me  so  anxious.     Come." 

"  No,  no.  Other  Mother!  Kitty  cannot  come. 
Kitty  must  stay.  See  the  poor  gray  squirrel  ?  It 
has  broked  its  leg.  It  went  so — hoppety-pat,  hop- 
pety-pat,  as  fast  as  fast.  I  thought  it  was  playing 
and  just  running  away.  So  Kitty  runned  too. 
Kitty  always  runs  away  when  Kitty  can." 


40  The  Sun  Maid. 

"Ugh!     I  beheve  you.     Come." 

"  No,  Kitty  must  stay.  Poor  sick  man  needs 
Kitty.  I  did  give  him  a  nice  drink.  Berries,  too. 
Kitty  putted  them  in  his  mouth  all  the  time.  Poor 
man!  " 

Wahneenah's  anger  rose.  Was  she,  a  chief's 
daughter,  to  be  thus  flouted  by  a  baby,  a  pale-face 
at  that  ?  Surely,  there  was  nothing  whatever 
spiritual  now  about  this  self-willed,  spoiled  creature, 
whom  an  unkind  fate  had  imposed  upon  her.  She 
stooped  to  lift  the  little  one  and  compel  obedience, 
but  was  met  by  a  smile  so  fearless  and  happy  that 
her  arms  fell  to  her  sides. 

"  That  's  a  good  Other  Mother.  Poor  sick  man 
has  wanted  to  turn  him  over,  and  he  could  n't. 
Kitty  tried  and  tried,  and  Kitty  could  n't.  Now 
my  Other  Mother  's  come.  She  can.  She  is  so 
beau'ful  strong  and  kind!  " 

There  was  a  grunt,  which  might  have  been  a 
groan,  from  the  corner  of  the  hut  where  the  Spotted 
Adder  lay;  and  a  convulsive  movement  of  the  con- 
torted limbs  as  he  vainly  strove  to  change  his  uncom- 
fortable position.  Wahneenah  watched  him,  with 
the  contempt  which  the  women  of  her  race  feel  for 
any  masculine  weakness,  and  did  not  offer  to  assist. 
His  poverty  she  pitied,  and  would  have  relieved, 
though  his  physical  infirmity  was  repugnant  to  her. 
She  would  not  touch  him. 


The  White  Bow.  41 

But  the  Sun  Maid  was  on  her  feet  at  once,  tenderly 
laying  upon  the  ground  the  wounded  squirrel  which 
she  had  held  upon  her  lap.  The  wild  thing  had, 
apparently,  lost  all  its  timidity  and  now  fully  trusted 
the  child  who  had  caressed  its  fur  and  murmured 
soft,  pitying  sounds,  in  that  low  voice  of  hers,  which 
the  Fort  people  had  sometimes  felt  was  an  unknown 
language.  Certainly,  she  had  had  a  strange  power, 
always,  over  any  animal  that  came  near  her  and 
this  case  was  no  exception.  Her  white  friends 
would  not  have  been  surprised  by  the  incident,  but 
Wahneenah  was,  and  it  brought  back  her  belief  that 
this  was  a  child  of  supernatural  gifts.  She  even 
began  to  feel  ashamed  of  her  treatment  of  Spotted 
Adder,  though  she  waited  to  see  what  his  small 
nurse  would  do. 

Poor  sick  Feather-man!  Is  you  hurted  now  ? 
Does  your  face  ache  you  to  make  it  screw  itself  all 
this  way  ?  "  and  she  made  a  comical  grimace,  imita- 
tive of  the  sufferer's  expression. 

"Ugh!     Ugh!" 

"  Yes;  Kitty  hears.  Other  Mother,  that  is  all 
the  word  he  says.  All  the  time  it  is  just  '  Ugh ! 
Ugh !  '  I  wish  he  would  talk  Kitty's  talk.  Make 
him  do  it.  Other  Mother.     Please!" 

"  That  I  cannot  do.  He  knows  it  not.  But  he 
has  a  speech  I  understand.  What  need  you.  Spotted 
Adder  ?  "  she  concluded,  in  his  own  dialect. 


42  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  Ugh  !  It  is  the  voice  of  Wahneenah,  the 
Happy  What  does  she  here,  in  the  lodge  of  the 
outcast  ?  It  is  many  a  moon  since  the  footfall  of  a 
woman  sounded  on  my  floor.  Why  does  one  come 
now  ?  " 

"  In  pursuit  of  this  child,  the  adopted  daughter 
of  our  tribe,  whom  the  Black  Partridge  himself  has 
given  me.  It  was  ill  of  you,  accursed,  to  wile  her 
hither  with  your  unholy  spells." 

"  I  wiled  her  not.  It  was  the  gray  squirrel. 
Broken  in  his  life,  as  am  I,  the  once  Mighty.  Many 
wounded  creatures  seek  shelter  here.  It  is  a  sanc- 
tuary.    They  alone  fear  not  the  miserable  one." 

"  Does  not  the  tribe  see  to  it  that  you  have  food 
and  drink  set  within  your  wigwam,  once  during 
each  journey  of  the  sun  ?     I  have  so  heard." 

Ugh!  Food  and  drink.  Sometimes  I  cannot 
reach  them.  They  are  not  even  pushed  beyond  the 
door  flap,  or  what  is  left  of  it.  They  are  all  afraid. 
All.  Yet  they  are  fools.  That  which  has  befallen 
me  may  happen  to  each  when  his  time  comes.  It  is 
the  sickness  of  the  bones.  There  is  no  contagion 
in  it.  But  it  twists  the  straight  limbs  into  tortur- 
ing curves  and  it  rends  the  body  with  agony. 
One  would  be  glad  to  die,  but  death — like  friend- 
ship—  holds  itself  aloof.  Ugh!  The  drink!  The 
drink!  " 

The  Sun  Maid  could  understand  the  language  of 


The  White  Bow.  43 

the  eyes,  if  not  the  h'ps,  and  she  followed  their  wist- 
ful gaze  toward  the  clay  bowl  from  which  she  had 
before  given  him  the  water.  But  it  was  empty  now, 
and  seizing  it  with  all  her  strength,  for  it  was  heavy 
and  awkward  in  shape,  she  sped  out  of  the  wigwam 
toward  a  spring  she  had  discovered. 

"  Four,  ten,  lots  of  times  Kitty  has  broughted 
the  nice  water,  and  every  time  the  poor,  sick 
Feather-man  has  drinked  it  up.  He  must  be  ter- 
rible thirsty,  and  so  is  Kitty.  I  guess  I  will  drink 
first,  this  time." 

Filling  the  utensil,  she  struggled  to  lift  it  to  her 
own  lips,  but  it  was  rudely  pushed  away. 

"  Papoose  !  Would  you  drink  to  your  own 
death  ?     The  thing  is  accursed,   I  tell  you!  " 

"  Why,  Other  Mother!  It  is  just  as  clean  as 
clean.  Kitty  did  wash  and  wash  it  long  ago.  It 
was  all  dirty,  worse  than  my  new  necklace,  but  it  is 
clean  now.  Do  you  want  a  drink,  Other  Mother  ? 
Is  you  thirsty,  too,  like  the  sick  one  and  Kitty  ?  " 

"  If  I  were,  it  would  be  long  before  I  touched 
my  lips  to  that  cup." 

"  Would  it  ?  Now  I  will  fill  it  again.  Then 
you  must  take  it.  Other  Mother,  and  quick,  quick, 
back  to  that  raggedy  house.  Kitty  is  tired,  she  has 
come  here  and  there  so  many,  many  times." 

"Is  it  here  you  have  spent  this  long  day, 
papoose  ?  " 


44  The  Sun  Maid. 

I  did  come  here  when  the  gray  squirrel  runned 
away.      I  did  stay  ever  since." 

Wahneenah's  heart  sank.  But  to  her  credit  it 
was  that,  for  the  time  being,  she  forgot  the  stories 
she  had  heard,  and  remembered  only  that  there  was 
suffering  which  she  must  relieve.  It  might  be  that 
already  the  soul  of  Spotted  Adder  was  winged  for 
its  long  flight,  and  could  carry  for  her  to  that  wide 
Unknown,  where  her  own  dead  tarried,  some  mes- 
sage from  her,  the  bereft.  As  this  thought  flashed 
through  her  brain  she  seized  the  bowl  and  hastened 
with  it  to  the  lodge. 

This  time,  also,  she  forgot  everything  but  the 
possibility  that  had  come  to  her,  and  kneeling  be- 
side the  old  Indian  she  held  the  dish  to  his  mouth. 

"  It  is  the  fever,  the  fever!  A  little  while  and 
the  awful  chill  will  come  again.  The  racking  pain, 
the  thirst !  Ugh !  Wahneenah,  the  Happy,  is 
braver  than  her  sisters.  Her  courage  shall  prove 
her  blessing.     The  lips  of  the  dying  speak  truth." 

"  And  the  ears  of  the  dying  ?  Can  they  still  hear 
and  remember  ?  Will  the  Spotted  Adder  take  my 
message  to  the  men  I  have  lost  ?  Sire  and  son, 
there  was  no  Pottawatomie  ever  born  so  brave  as 
they.  Tell  them  I  have  been  faithful.  I  have 
been  the  Woman-Who-Mourns.  I  have  kept  to 
my  darkened  wigwam  and  remembered  only  them, 
till  she  came,  this  child  you  have  seen.     She  is  a 


The  White  Bow.  45 

gift  from  the  sky.  She  has  come  to  comfort  and 
sustain.  She  was  born  a  pale-face,  but  she  has  a 
red  man's  heart.  She  is  all  brave  and  true  and 
dauntless.  None  fear  her,  and  she  fears  none.  I 
believe  that  they  have  sent  her  to  me.  I  believe 
that  in  her  they  both  live.     Ask  them  if  this  is  so." 

"  There  is  no  need  to  ask,  Wahneenah,  the 
Happy.  Happy,  indeed,  who  has  been  blessed 
with  a  gift  so  gracious.  She  is  the  Merciful.  The 
Unafraid.  She  will  pass  in  safety  through  many 
perils.  All  day  she  has  sat  beside  me  whom  all 
others  shun.  She  has  moistened  my  lips,  she  has 
kept  the  gnats  from  stinging,  she  has  sung  in  her 
unknown  tongue  of  that  land  whither  I  go,  and 
soon, — the  land  of  the  sky  from  whence  she  came. 
The  light  of  the  morning  is  on  her  hair  and  the 
dusk  of  evening  in  her  eyes.  As  she  has  ministered 
to  me,  the  deserted,  the  solitary,  so  she  will  min- 
ister unto  multitudes.  I  can  see  them  crowding, 
crowding;  the  generations  yet  unborn.  The  vision 
of  the  dying  is  true." 

On  the  floor  beside  them  the  Sun  Maid  sat, 
caressing  the  wounded  squirrel.  Through  the  torn 
curtains  the  waning  sunlight  slanted  and  lighted  the 
bleak  interior.  It  seemed  to  rest  most  brilliantly 
upon  the  child,  and  in  the  eyes  of  the  Spotted 
Adder  she  was  like  a  lamp  set  to  illumine  his  path 
through  the  dark  valley,  an  unexpected  messenger 


46  The  Sun  Maid. 

from  the  Great  Father,  showing  him  beforehand  a 
gHmpse  of  the  beauty  and  tenderness  of  the  Land 
Beyond.  Yet  even  if  a  spirit,  she  wore  a  human 
shape,  and  she  would  have  human  needs.  She 
would  be  often  in  danger  against  which  she  must 
be  guarded. 

"  Wahneenah,  fetch  me  the  bow  and  quiver." 

"Which?"  she  asked,  in  surprise,  though  in 
reality  she  knew. 

"  Is  there  one  that  should  be  named  with  mine  ? 
The  White  Bow  from  the  land  of  eternal  snow; 
the  arrows  winged  with  feathers  from  the  white 
eagle's  wing, — light  as  thistle  down,  strong  as  love, 
invincible  as  death." 

The  Spotted  Adder  had  been  the  orator  of  his 
tribe.  Men  had  listened  to  his  words  in  admiration, 
wondering  whence  he  obtained  the  eloquence  which 
moved  them ;  and  at  that  moment  it  was  as  if  all 
the  power  of  his  earlier  manhood  had  returned. 

The  White  Bow  was  well  known  among  all  the 
Pottawatomie  tribes.  Even  the  Sacs  and  Foxes 
had  heard  of  it  and  feared  it.  It  was  older  than 
the  Giver's  historic  necklace,  and  tradition  said  that 
it  had  been  hurled  to  earth  on  the  breath  of  a 
mighty  snowstorm.  It  had  fallen  before  the  wig- 
wam of  the  Spotted  Adder's  ancestor  and  had  been 
handed  down  from  father  to  son,  as  fair  and  sound 
as  on  the  day  of  its  first  bestowal.     None  knew  the 


The  White  Bow.  47 

wood  of  which  it  was  fashioned,  which  many  could 
bend  and  twist  but  none  could  break.  The  string 
which  first  bound  it  had  never  worn  nor  wasted, 
and  not  a  feather  had  ever  fallen  from  the  arrows  in 
the  quiver,  nor  had  their  number  ever  diminished, 
no  matter  how  often  sped.  It  was  the  one  posses- 
sion left  to  the  neglected  warrior  and  had  been 
protected  by  its  own  reputed  origin.  There  were 
daring  thieves  in  many  a  tribe,  but  never  a  thief  so 
bold  he  would  risk  his  soul  in  the  seizure  of  the 
White  Bow. 

Wahneenah  felt  no  choice  but  to  comply  with  the 
Indian's  command.  She  took  the  bow  and  its  ac- 
coutrements from  the  sheltered  niche  in  the  tepee 
where  it  hung;  the  only  spot,  it  seemed,  that  had 
not  been  subjected  to  the  destruction  of  the  ele- 
ments.  She  had  never  held  it  in  her  hand  before, 
and  she  wondered  at  its  lightness  as  she  carried  it 
to  its  owner,  and  placed  it  in  the  gnarled  fingers 
which  would  never  string  it  again. 

"  Good!     Call  the  child  to  stand  here." 

With  awe,  Wahneenah  motioned  the  little  one 
within  the  red  man's  reach.  The  last  vestige  of  fear 
or  repulsion  had  vanished  from  her  own  mind  before 
the  majesty  of  this  hour. 

"  Does  the  poor,  sick  Feather-man  want  another 
drink  ?     Shall  Kitty  fetch  it  now  ?  " 
Hush,  papoose !  " 


48  The  Sun  Maid. 

He  would  have  opened  the  small  white  hand  and 
clasped  it  about  the  bow,  which  reached  full  three 
times  the  height  of  the  child,  and  along  whose 
beautiful  length  she  gazed  in  wonder,  but  he  could 
not. 

"  Take  it,  Girl-Child.  It  is  a  gift.  It  is  more 
magical  than  the  necklace.  Take  it,  hold  it  tight 
— that  will  please  him  —  and  say  what  is  in  your 
heart." 

"  Oh,  the  beau'ful  bow!  Is  it  for  Kitty?  To 
keep,  forever  and  ever  ?  Why,  it  is  bigger  than  that 
one  of  the  Sauganash,  and  far  prettier  than  Winne- 
meg's.  It  cannot  be  for  Kitty,  just  little  Kitty 
girl." 

"  Yes;  it  is." 

Then  the  Sun  Maid  laid  it  reverently  down,  and 
catching  hold  her  scant  tunic  made  the  old-fashioned 
curtsey  which  her  Fort  friends  had  taught  her. 

"  Thank  you,  poor  Feather-man.  I  will  take 
care  of  it  very  nice.     I  won't  break  it,  not  once." 

"  Ugh!  "  grunted  the  Indian,  with  satisfaction. 
Then  he  closed  his  eyes  as  if  he  would  sleep. 

"  Good-night,  Spotted  Adder,  the  Mighty.  I 
thank  you,  also,  on  the  child's  behalf.  It  is  the 
second  gift  this  day  of  talismans  that  must  protect. 
Surely,  she  will  be  clothed  in  safety.  Hearken  to 
me.  I  must  go  home.  The  Sun  Maid  must  be  fed 
and    put    to  sleep.      But   I   will   return.      I   am   no 


THE   GIFT    OF    THE    WHriE    BOW, 


Page  48. 


The  White  Bow.  49 

longer  afraid.  You  were  my  father's  friend.  All 
that  a  woman's  hand  can  now  do  for  your  comfort 
shall  be  done." 

But  the  Spotted  Adder  made  no  sign,  and  whether 
he  did  or  did  not  hear  her,  Wahneenah  never  knew. 
She  walked  swiftly  homeward,  bearing  the  White 
Papoose  upon  one  strong  arm  and  the  White  Bow 
upon  the  other.  Yet  she  noticed,  with  a  smile, 
that  the  child  still  clung  tenderly  to  her  own  burden 
of  the  injured  squirrel,  and  that  she  was  infinitely 
more  careful  of  it  and  its  suffering  than  of  the  won- 
derful gift  she  had  received. 

Long  before  her  own  tepee  was  reached  the  Sun 
Maid  was  fast  asleep ;  and  as  the  small  head  rested 
more  and  more  heavily  upon  Wahneenah's  shoulder, 
and  the  soft  breath  of  childhood  fanned  her  throat, 
the  woman  again  doubted  the  spiritual  origin  of 
the  foundling,  and  felt  fresh  gratitude  for  its  simple 
humanity. 

"  Well,  whoever  and  whatever  she  is,  she  is 
already  thrice  protected.  By  her  Indian  dress,  by 
her  White  Bow,  and  by  Lahnowenah's  White  Neck- 
lace.    She  is  quite  safe  from  every  enemy  now." 

"  Not  quite,"  said  a  voice  at  Wahneenah's  elbow. 

But  it  was  only  Osceolo,  the  Simple.  Nobody 
minded  him  or  his  words. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HORSES:   WHITE   AND    BLACK. 

ON  the  morning  of  the  15th  of  August,  1812, 
the  sun  rose  in  unclouded  splendor,  and 
transformed  the  great  Lake  Michigan  into  a  sheet 
of  gold. 

"  It  is  a  good  omen,"  said  one  of  the  women  at 
Fort  Dearborn,  as  she  looked  out  over  the  shining 
water. 

But  only  the  merry  children  responded  to  her 
attempted  cheerfulness. 

"  We  shall  have  a  grand  ride.  I  wish  nobody 
need  make  the  journey  on  foot;  and  I  'm  glad, 
for  once,  I  'm  just  a  boy,  and  not  a  grown-up 
man." 

"  Even  a  boy  may  have  to  do  a  man's  work,  this 
day,  Caspar  Keith.  I  wish  that  you  were  strong 
enough  to  hold  a  gun ;  but  you  have  been  taught 
how  to  use  an  arrow.  Is  your  quiver  well  sup- 
plied ?  " 

That  his  captain  should  speak  to  him,  a  child,  so 
seriously,  impressed  the  lad  profoundly.  His  ruddy 
cheek  paled,  and  a  fit  of  trembling  seized  him.  A 
50 


Horses:  White  and  Black.  51 

sombre  memory  rose  to  frighten  him,  and  he  caught 
his  breath  as  he  asked : 

"  Do  you  think  there  will  be  any  trouble,  Captain 
Heald  ?  I  thought  I  heard  the  soldiers  saying  that 
the  Pottawatomies  would  take  care  of  us." 

"  Who  trusts  to  an  Indian's  care  leans  on  a  broken 
reed.  You  know  that  from  your  own  experience. 
Surely,  you  must  remember  your  earlier  childhood, 
even  though  you  have  been  forbidden  to  talk  of  it 
here." 

"  Oh!  I  do,  I  do!  Not  often  in  the  daytime, 
but  in  the  long,  long  nights.  The  other  children 
sleep.  They  have  never  seen  what  I  did,  or  heard 
the  dreadful  yells  that  come  in  my  dreams  and  wake 
me  up.  Then  I  seem  to  see  the  flames,  the  blood, 
the  dead  white  faces.  Oh,  sir,  don't  tell  me  that 
must  come  again:  don't,  don't!  I  cannot  bear  it. 
I  would  rather  die  right  now  and  here  —  safe  in  our 
Fort." 

Instantly  the  soldier  regretted  his  own  words. 
But  the  lad  was  one  of  the  larger  children  at  the 
garrison  and  should  be  incited,  he  thought,  to  take 
some  share  in  the  matter  of  defence,  should  defence 
be  necessary.  He  had  not  known  that  under  Gas- 
par's  quiet,  almost  sullen  demeanor,  had  lain  such 
hidden  experiences.  Else  he  would  have  talked 
them  over  with  the  boy,  and  have  tried  to  make 
him  forget  instead  of  remember  his  early  wrongs. 


52  The  Sun  Maid. 

For  Caspar  Keith  was  the  son  of  an  Indian  trader, 
and  had  been  born  in  an  isolated  cabin  far  to  the 
northwest  of  his  present  home.  The  Httle  cabin 
had  been  overflowing  with  young  life  and  gayety, 
even  in  that  wilderness.  His  mother  was  a  French- 
woman of  the  happiest  possible  temperament  and, 
because  no  other  society  was  available,  had  made 
comrades  of  her  children.  "  What  we  did  in  Mon- 
treal "  was  the  type  of  what  she  attempted  to  do 
under  her  more  restricted  conditions.  So,  for  a 
long  season  of  peace,  the  Keiths  sang  and  made 
merry  over  every  trifling  incident.  Did  the  father 
bring  home  an  extra  load  of  game,  at  once  there 
was  a  feast  prepared  and  all  the  friendly  Indians,  the 
only  neighbors,  were  invited  to  come  and  partake. 

On  one  such  occasion,  when  a  red-skinned  guest 
had  brought  with  him  a  bottle  of  the  forbidden 
"  fire-water,"  a  quarrel  ensued.  The  trader  was  of 
sterner  sort  than  his  light-hearted  wife,  and  of 
violent  temper.  In  his  own  house  his  word  was 
law,  and  he  remonstrated  with  the  Indian  for  his 
action.  To  little  Gaspar,  in  his  memories,  it  seemed 
but  a  moment's  transition  from  a  laughing  group 
about  a  well-spread  table  to  a  scene  of  horror.  He 
saw  —  but  he  could  never  afterward  speak  in  any 
definite  way  of  what  he  saw.  Only  he  knew  that 
almost  before  he  had  pushed  back  from  his  place  he 
had  been  caught   up  on  the  shoulder  of  the  chief 


Horses:  White  and  Black.  53 

Winnemeg,  also  a  guest;  and  in  another  moment 
was  riding  behind  that  warrior  at  breakneck  speed 
toward  the  little  garrison,  in  pursuit  of  shelter  for 
himself  and  aid  for  his  defenceless  family. 

The  shelter  was  speedily  found,  but  the  aid  came 
too  late;  and  for  a  time  the  women  of  the  Fort  had 
a  diflficult  task  in  comforting  the  fright-crazed  boy. 
However,  they  were  used  to  such  incidents.  Their 
courage  and  generosity  were  unlimited,  and  they 
persevered  in  their  care  till  he  recovered  and  repaid 
them  by  his  faithful  devotion  and  service. 

The  manner  of  his  arrival  among  them  was  never 
discussed  in  his  presence,  and  as  he  gradually  came 
to  act  like  other,  happier  children,  they  hoped  he 
had  outgrown  his  troubles.  He  had  now  been  at 
the  Fort  for  two  years,  during  all  which  time  he  had 
gone  but  short  distances  from  it.  Yet  even  in  his 
restricted  outings  he  had  picked  up  much  know- 
ledge of  useful  things  from  the  settlers  near,  and  of 
things  apparently  not  so  useful  from  his  red-faced 
friends.  So  it  happened  that  there  was  not,  prob- 
ably, even  any  Indian  boy  who  could  string  a  bow 
or  aim  an  arrow  better  than  Caspar. 

The  Sauganash  himself  had  presented  the  little 
fellow  with  a  bow  of  finest  workmanship,  and  had 
taught  him  the  rare  trick  of  shooting  at  fixed  paces. 
It  had  been  the  delight  of  the  garrison  to  watch 
him,  in  their  hours  of  recreation,   accomplish  this 


54  The  Sun  Maid. 

feat.  Sighting  some  bird  flying  high  overhead, 
the  lad  would  take  swift  aim  and  discharge  each 
arrow  from  his  quiver  at  a  certain  count.  There 
never  seemed  any  variation  in  the  distances  between 
the  discharged  arrows  as  they  made  the  arc — upward 
with  unerring  aim,  and  downward  in  the  body  of  the 
bird ;  hitting  it,  one  by  one,  at  proportionate  inter- 
vals of  time  and  space. 

The  women  thought  it  a  cruel  sport,  and  would 
have  prevented  it  if  they  could ;  but  the  men  knew 
that  it  was  a  wonderful  achievement,  and  that  many 
fine  archers  among  the  surrounding  tribes  would  fail 
in  accomplishing  it.  Therefore,  it  was  natural  that 
the  Fort's  commandant  should  be  anxious  to  know 
if  his  ward's  equipment  were  in  order,  on  a  morning 
so  full  of  possible  dangers  as  this. 

"  There  is  no  talk  of  dying,  Caspar.  You  are  a 
man,  child,  if  not  full  grown.  You  are  brave  and 
skilful.  You  have  a  clear  head,  too;  so  listen 
closely  to  what  I  say.  In  our  garrison  are  not 
more  than  forty  men  able  to  fight.  There  are  a 
dozen  women  and  twenty  children,  of  which  none 
have  been  trained  to  use  a  bow  as  you  can.  Be- 
sides these  helpless  ones,  there  are  many  sick  soldiers 
to  occupy  the  wagons.  I  know  you  expected  to  be 
with  your  mates,  but  I  have  another  plan  for  you. 
I  want  you  to  ride  Tempest,  and  to  sling  your  bow 
on  your  saddle  horn." 


Horses:  White  and  Black.  55 

"  Ride — Tempest!  Why,  Captain  Heald  !  No- 
body—  that  is,  nobody  but  you  —  can  ride  him.  I 
was  never  on  his  back " 

"  It  's  time  you  were.  Lad,  do  you  know  how 
many  Indians  are  in  camp  near  us,  or  have  broken 
camp  this  morning  to  join  us  ?" 

"  Oh!  quite  a  lot,  I  guess." 

"  Just  so.  A  whole  '  lot.'  About  five  hundred, 
or  a  few  less." 

The  two  were  busily  at  work,  packing  the  last  of 
the  few  possessions  that  the  commandant  must  con- 
vey to  Fort  Wayne,  and  which  he  could  entrust  to 
no  other  hands  than  his  own  and  those  of  this  deft- 
fingered  lad,  and  they  made  no  pause  while  they 
talked.  Indeed,  Caspar's  movements  were  even 
swifter  now,  as  if  he  were  eager  to  be  through  and 
off. 

"  Five  hundred,  sir  ?  They  are  friendly  Indians, 
though.     Black  Partridge  and  Winnemeg " 

"  Are  but  as  straws  against  the  current.  Caspar, 
I  shall  need  a  boy  who  can  be  trusted.  These  red 
neighbors  of  ours  are  not  so  '  friendly  '  as  they 
seem.  They  are  dissatisfied.  They  mean  mischief, 
I  fear,  though  God  forbid !  Well,  we  are  soldiers, 
and  we  cannot  shrink.  You  must  ride  Tempest. 
You  must  tell  nobody  why.  You  can  keep  at  a 
short  distance  from  our  main  band,  and  act  as  scout. 
Captain  Wells  will  march  in  front  with  his  Miamis, 


56  The  Sun  Maid. 

upon  whose  assistance — the  Miamis',  I  mean — I  do 
not  greatly  count.  They  are  cowards.  They  fear 
the  *  canoe  men.'  Well,  what  do  you  say,  my 
son  ?  " 

Gaspar  caught  his  breath.  His  own  fear  of  an 
Indian  had  been  nearly  overcome  by  the  friendship 
of  those  chiefs  who  were  so  constantly  at  the  Fort ; 
but  the  night  before  had  brought  him  a  recurrence 
of  the  terrifying  visions  which  were  as  much  memo- 
ries as  dreams.  After  such  a  night  he  was  scarcely 
himself  in  courage,  greatly  as  he  desired  to  please 
the  captain.  Then  he  reflected  how  high  was  the 
honor  designed  him.  He,  a  little  boy,  just  past 
ten  and  going  on  eleven  for  a  whole  fortnight  now, 
and — of  course  he  'd  do  it! 

"  Well,  I  '11  ride  him.  That  is,  I  '11  try.  Like 
as  not,  he  '11  shake  me  off  first  try." 

"  Make  the  second  try,  then.  You  know  the 
copy  in  your  writing-book  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  wrote  the  whole  page  of  it,  yester- 
day, and  the  chaplain  said  it  was  well  done.  Shall 
I  get  him  now  ?     Are  you  almost  ready  ? " 

The  commandant  looked  at  the  waiting  wagons, 
the  assembled  company,  the  women  and  little  ones 
who  were  so  dear  and  in  such  a  perilous  case.  For 
a  moment  his  heart  sank,  stout  soldier  though  he 
was,  and  it  was  no  detriment  to  his  manhood  that  a 
fervent  if  silent  prayer  escaped  him. 


Horses:  White  and  Black.  57 

"  Yes,  fetch  him  if  you  can.     If  not,  I  '11  come." 

Tempest  was  a  gelding  of  fine  Kentucky  breed. 
There  were  others  of  his  line  at  the  garrison,  and 
upon  them  some  of  the  women  even  were  to  ride. 
But  Tempest  was  the  king  of  the  stables.  He  was 
the  master's  half-broken  pet  and  recreation.  For 
sterner  uses,  as  for  that  morning's  work,  there  was 
a  better  trained  animal,  and  on  this  the  command- 
ant would  make  his  own  journey. 

A  smile  curled  the  officer's  lips  despite  his  anxiety 
as,  presently,  out  from  the  stables  galloped  a  bare- 
headed lad,  clinging  desperately  to  Tempest's  back, 
who  tried  as  desperately  to  shake  off  his  unusual 
burden.  But  the  saddle  girth  was  well  secured, 
and  the  rider  clung  like  a  burr.  His  bow  was 
slung  crosswise  before  him  and  his  full  quiver  hung 
at  his  back. 

A  cheer  went  up.  The  sight  was  as  helpful  to 
the  soldiers  as  it  was  amusing,  and  they  fell  into 
line  with  a  ready  step  as  the  band  struck  up — what 
was  that  tune  ?  The  Dead  March  ?  By  whose  ill- 
judgment  this  ? 

Well,  there  was  no  time  to  question.  Any  music 
helps  to  keep  a  line  of  men  in  step,  and  there  was 
the  determined  Caspar  cavorting  and  wheeling  be- 
fore and  around  the  soldiers  in  a  way  to  provoke  a 
mirth  that  no  dismal  strain  could  dispel.  So  the 
gates  were  flung  open,  and  in  orderly  procession, 


58  The  Sun  Maid. 

each  man  in  his  place,  each  heart  set  upon  its  duty, 
the  little  garrison  marched  through  them  for  the 
last  time. 

Of  what  took  place  within  the  next  dread  hours, 
of  the  Indians'  treachery  and  the  white  men's  cour- 
age, there  is  no  need  to  give  the  details.  It  is 
history.  But  of  brave  Gaspar  Keith  on  the  wild 
gelding.  Tempest,  history  makes  no  mention. 
There  is  many  a  hero  whose  name  is  unknown,  and 
the  lad  was  a  hero  that  day.  He  did  what  he 
could,  and  his  empty  quiver,  his  broken  bow,  told 
their  own  story  to  a  Pottawatomie  warrior  who 
came  upon  the  boy  just  as  the  sun  crossed  the 
meridian  on  that  memorable  day. 

Gaspar  was  lying  unconscious  beneath  a  clump 
of  forest  trees,  and  Tempest  grazing  quietly  beside 
him.  There  was  no  wound  upon  the  lad,  and 
whether  he  had  been  thrown  to  the  ground  by  the 
animal,  or  had  slipped  from  his  saddle  out  of  sheer 
weariness,  even  he  could  never  tell. 

The  Indian  who  found  him  was  none  other  than 
the  Man-Who-Kills;  and,  from  a  perfectly  safe  dis- 
tance for  himself,  he  had  watched  the  young  pale- 
face with  admiration  and  covetousness. 

"  By  and  by,  when  the  fight  is  over,  I  will  get 
him.  He  shall  be  my  prisoner.  The  black  gelding 
is  finer  than  any  horse  ever  galloped  into  Muck- 
otey-pokee.     They  shall  both  be  mine.     I  will  tell 


Horses  :  White  and  Black.  59 

a  big  tale  at  the  council  fires  of  my  brothers,  and 
they  shall  account  me  brave.  Talking  is  easier  than 
fighting,  any  time,  and  why  should  I  peril  my  life, 
following  this  mad  war-path  of  theirs  to  that  far- 
away Fort  Wayne  ?  Enough  is  a  plenty.  I  have 
hidden  lots  of  plunder  while  the  men  of  my  tribe 
did  their  killing,  and  the  Man-Who-Kills  will  always 
be  wise,  as  he  is  always  brave.  I  could  shoot  as 
fast  and  as  far  as  anybody  if  —  if  I  wished.  But  I 
do  not  wish.  It  is  too  much  trouble.  So  I  will  tie 
the  boy  on  the  gelding's  back  and  lead  them  home 
in  triumph.  Will  my  squaw,  Sorah,  flout  me  now  ? 
No.  No,  indeed  !  And  there  is  no  need  to  say  that 
I  dared  not  mount  the  beast  myself.  But  I  can  lead 
him  all  right,  and  when  the  Woman-Who-Mourns, 
that  haughty  sister  of  my  chief,  sees  me  coming  she 
will  say :  '  Behold !  how  merciful  is  this  mighty 
warrior! 

These  reflections  of  the  astute  Indian,  as  he  rested 
upon  the  shaded  sward,  afforded  him  such  satisfac- 
tion that  he  did,  indeed,  handle  poor  Gaspar  with 
more  gentleness  than  might  have  been  expected  ; 
because  such  a  person  commonly  mistakes  brutality 
for  bravery. 

Oddly  enough,  Tempest  offered  no  resistance  to 
the  red  man's  plan,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  bur- 
dened by  the  helpless  Gaspar  and  led  slowly  to  the 
Indian  village.    There  the  party  aroused  less  interest 


6o  The  Sun  Maid. 

than  the  Man-Who-Kills  had  anticipated,  for  other 
prisoners  had  already  been  brought  in  and,  besides 
this,  something  had  occurred  that  seemed  to  the 
women  far  more  important. 

This  was  the  fresh  grief  of  Wahneenah  as  she 
roamed  from  wigwam  to  wigwam,  searching  for  her 
adopted  daughter  and  imploring  help  to  find  her. 
For  again  the  Sun  Maid  had  disappeared,  as  sud- 
denly and  more  completely  than  on  the  previous 
day  though  after  much  the  same  manner. 

The  child  had  been  attending  her  injured  squirrel 
and  giving  her  bowls  of  orchids  fresh  drinks,  upon 
the  threshold  mat  of  her  new  home,  and  her  indul- 
gent foster-mother  had  gone  to  fetch  from  the 
stream  the  water  needed  for  the  latter  purpose.  At 
the  brook's  edge  she  had  stopped,  "  just  for  a  mo- 
ment," to  discuss  with  the  other  squaws  the  news 
of  the  massacre  that  was  fast  coming  to  them  by  the 
straggling  bands  of  returning  braves. 

But  the  brief  absence  was  long  enough  to  have 
worked  the  mischief.  The  small  runaway  had  left 
her  posies  and  her  squirrel  and  departed,  nobody 
could  guess  whither. 

Till  at  last  again  came  Osceolo,  the  mischievous, 
and  remarked,  indifferently: 

"  The  Woman-Who-Mourns  may  save  her  steps. 
The  White  Papoose  and  the  Snowbird  are  far  over 
the  prairie  while  the  women  search." 


Horses:  White  and  Black,  6i 

Osceolo !  You  are  the  son  of  the  evil  spirit! 
You  bring  distress  in  your  hand  as  a  gift !  But 
take  care  what  you  say  now.  You  know,  as  I  know, 
that  nobody  can  mount  the  White  Snowbird  and 
live.  Or  if  one  could  succeed  and  pass  beyond  the 
village  borders,  it  would  be  a  ride  to  some  far  land 
whence  there  is  no  return.  What  is  the  mare, 
Snowbird,  but  a  creature  bewitched  ?  or  the  home 
of  the  soul  of  a  dead  maiden,  who  would  rather  live 
thus  with  her  people  than  without  them  as  a  spirit 
in  the  Great  Beyond  ?  You  know  all  this,  and  yet 
you  tell  me " 

"  That  the  Sun  Maid  is  flying  now  on  the  Snow- 
bird's back  toward  the  setting  sun,  who  is  her 
father. 

How  do  you  know  this  ?  " 
I  saw  it." 

"  Who  took  her  to  the  Snowbird's  corral  ?  Who? 
Osceolo,  torment  of  our  tribe,  it  was  you !  It  was 
you  !  Boy,  do  you  know  what  you  have  done  ?  Do 
you  know  that  out  there,  on  the  prairie  where  you 
have  sent  her,  the  spirit  of  murder  is  abroad  ?  Not 
a  pale-face  shall  escape.  She  was  safe  here,  where 
your  own  chief,  the  Black  Partridge,  placed  her. 
Hear  me.  If  harm  befalls  her,  if  by  moonrise  she 
is  not  restored  to  me,  you  shall  bear  the  punish- 
ment.    You " 

By  a  gesture  he  stopped  her.     Now  thoroughly 


62  The  Sun  Maid. 

frightened,  the  mischievous  boy  put  up  his  arms  as 
if  to  ward  off  the  coming  threat.  Half  credulous, 
and  half  doubtful  that  the  Sun  Maid  was  more  than 
mortal,  he  had  made  a  test  for  himself.  He  had 
remembered  the  Snowbird,  fretting  its  high  spirit 
out  within  the  closed  paddock,  and  a  daring  notion 
had  seized  him.     It  was  this: 

"  While  the  Woman- Who-Mourns  gossips  with 
her  neighbors,  I  *11  catch  up  the  papoose  and  carry 
her  there.  She  '11  come  fast  enough.  She  ran 
away  yesterday,  and  she  played  with  me  before  the 
Spotted  Adder's  hut.  She  trusts  everybody.  I  '11 
have  some  fun,  even  if  my  father  did  n't  let  me  go 
with  him  to  the  camp  yonder." 

Among  all  nations  boyhood  is  the  same — plays 
the  same  wild  pranks,  with  equal  disregard  of  conse- 
quences; and  Osceolo  would  far  rather  have  had  a 
good  time  than  a  good  supper.  He  thought  he  was 
having  a  perfectly  fascinating  good  time  when  he 
bound  a  long  blanket  over  the  Snowbird's  back  and 
then  fastened  Kitty  Briscoe  in  the  folds  of  the 
blanket.  He  had  laughed  gayly  as  he  clapped  his 
hands  and  set  the  mare  free,  and  the  little  one 
riding  her  had  laughed  and  clapped  also.  He  had 
watched  them  out  of  sight  over  the  prairie,  and  had 
felt  quite  proud  of  himself. 

"  If  she  is  a  spirit  she  '11  come  back  safe ;  and  if 
she   's   nothing   but    a    white    man's   baby — why, 


Horses  :  White  and  Black.  63 

that  's  all  she  is.  Only  a  squaw  child  at  that, 
though  the  silly  women  have  made  such  ado.  I 
wonder — will  I  ever  see  her  again  ?  Well,  I  '11  go 
around  by  VVahneenah's  tepee,  after  a  while,  and 
enjoy  the  worry.  It  's  the  smartest  thing  I  've 
done  yet ;  and  she  did  look  cunning,  too.  She 
was  n't  a  bit  afraid — she  is  n't  afraid  of  anything — 
which  makes  her  better  than  most  girl  papooses, 
and  she  was  laughing  as  hard  as  I  was  when  she 
went  away." 

With  these  thoughts,  Osceolo  had  come  back  to 
the  spot  where  Wahneenah  met  him  and  demanded 
if  he  knew  aught  of  her  charge ;  and  there  was  no 
hilarity  in  his  face  now  as  he  watched  her  enter  her 
wigwam  and  drop  its  curtains  behind  her.  He  sud- 
denly remembered  —  many  things;  and  at  thought 
of  the  Black  Partridge's  wrath  he  turned  faint  and 
sick. 

But  the  test  had  been  made  and  no  regret  could 
recall  it. 

Meanwhile,  there  came  into  his  mind  the  fact:  a 
black  horse  had  just  entered  the  village  and  a  white 
one  had  gone  out  of  it.  The  narrow  superstition  in 
which  he  had  been  reared  taught  him  that  the  one 
brought  misfortune  and  the  other  carried  away  hap- 
piness; and,  in  a  redoubled  terror  at  his  own  act 
and  its  consequences,  Osceolo  turned  and  fled. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   THREE   GIFTS. 

THE  Black  Partridge  has  served  his  white 
friends  faithfully.  He  should  now  remem- 
ber his  own  people,  and  rest  his  heart  among  them," 
said  the  White  Pelican  as  he  rode  homeward  beside 
his  chief,  not  many  hours  after  the  massacre  of  the 
sandhills. 

The  elder  warrior  lifted  his  bowed  head,  and  re- 
garded his  nephew  in  sadness.  His  eyes  had  that 
far-away,  dreamy  look  which  was  unusual  among 
his  race  and  had  given  him,  at  times,  a  strange 
power  over  his  fellows.  Because,  unfortunately, 
the  dreams  were,  after  all,  very  practical,  and  the 
silent  visions  were  of  things  that  might  have  been 
averted. 

"  The  White  Pelican,  also,  did  well.  He  pro- 
tected those  whom  he  wished  to  kill.  He  did  it 
for  my  sake.  It  shall  not  be  forgotten,  though  the 
effort  was  useless.     The  end  has  begun." 

The  younger  brave  touched  his  fine  horse  im- 
patiently, and  the  animal  sprang  forward  a  few 
paces.  As  he  did  so,  the  rider  caught  a  gleam  of 
64 


The  Three  Gifts.  65 

something  white  skimming  along  the  horizon  Hne, 
and  wondered  what  it  might  be.  But  he  had  set 
out  to  attend  his  chief  and,  curbing  his  mount  by  a 
strong  pull,  whirled  about  and  rode  back  to  the  side 
of  Black  Partridge. 

"  What  is  the  end  that  has  begun,  Man-Who- 
Cannot-Lie  ?  " 

"  The  downfall  of  our  nations.  They  have  been 
as  the  trees  of  the  forest  and  the  grasses  of  the 
prairie.  The  trees  shall  be  felled  and  the  grasses 
shall  be  cut.  The  white  man's  hand  shall  accom- 
plish both." 

"  For  once,  the  Truth-Teller  is  mistaken.  We 
will  wrest  our  lands  back  from  the  grasp  of  the  pale- 
faces. We  will  learn  their  arts  and  conquer  them 
with  their  own  weapons.  We  will  destroy  their 
villages — few  they  are  and  widely  scattered.  Pouf ! 
This  morning's  work  is  but  a  show  of  what  is  yet 
to  come.  As  we  did  then,  so  we  will  do  in  the 
future.  I,  too,  would  go  with  my  tribe  to  that 
other  fort  far  beyond  the  Great  Lake.  I  would 
help  again  to  wipe  away  these  usurpers  from  our 
homes,  as  I  wipe — this,  from  my  horse's  flank. 
Only  my  promise  to  remain  with  my  chief  and  my 
kinsman  prevents." 

The  youth  had  stooped  and  brushed  a  bit  of  grass 

bloom    from  the  animal's  shining  skin;  and  as  he 

raised  his  head  again  he  looked  inquiringly  into  the 
5 


66  The  Sun  Maid. 

stern  face  of  the  other.  Thus,  indirectly,  was  he 
begging  permission  to  join  the  contemplated  raid 
upon  another  distant  garrison. 

Black  Partridge  understood  but  ignored  the  silent 
petition.  He  had  other,  higher  plans  for  the  White 
Pelican.  He  would  himself  train  the  courageous 
youth  to  be  as  wise  and  diplomatic  as  he  was  brave. 
When  the  training  was  over,  he  should  be  sent  to 
that  distant  land  where  the  Great  Father  of  the 
white  men  dwelt,  and  should  there  make  a  plea  for 
the  whole  Indian  race. 

"  Would  not  a  man  who  saved  all  this  " — sweep- 
ing his  arm  around  toward  every  point  of  the  prairie 
— "  to  his  people  be  better  than  one  who  killed  a 
half-dozen  pale-faces  yet  lost  his  home?  " 

"Why  —  yes,"      said     the     other,     regretfully. 

"  But " 

But  it  is  the  last  chance.  The  time  draws 
near  when  not  an  Indian  wigwam  will  dot  this 
grand  plain.  Already,  in  the  talk  of  the  white 
men,  there  is  the  plan  forming  to  send  us  westward. 
Many  a  day's  journey  will  lie  between  us  and  this 
beloved  spot.  Our  canoes  will  soon  vanish  from 
the  Great  Lake,  and  we  shall  cease  to  glide  over  our 
beautiful  river.  Hear  me.  It  is  fate.  These  people 
who  have  come  to  oust  us  from  our  birthright  have 
been  sent  by  the  Great  Spirit.  It  is  His  will.  We 
have   had  our  one  day   of  life  and  of  possession. 


The  Three  Gifts.  67 

They  are  to  have  theirs.  Who  will  come  after  them 
and  destroy  them  ?     They " 

But  the  White  Pelican  could  endure  no  more. 
The  Black  Partridge  was  not  often  in  such  a  mood 
as  this,  stern  and  sombre  though  he  might  some- 
times be,  nor  had  his  prophecies  so  far  an  outlook. 
That  the  Indians  should  ever  be  driven  entirely 
away  by  their  white  enemies  seemed  a  thing  impos- 
sible to  the  stout-hearted  young  brave,  and  he 
spoke  his  mind  freely. 

"  My  father  has  had  sorrow  this  day,  and  his  eyes 
are  too  dim  to  see  clearly.  Or  he  has  eaten  of  the 
white  man's  food  and  it  has  turned  his  brain. 
Were  it  not  for  his  dim  eyesight,  I  would  ask  him 
to  tell  the  White  Pelican  what  that  creature  might 
be  that  darts  and  wheels  and  prances  yonder"; 
and  he  pointed  toward  the  western  horizon. 

Now  there  was  a  hidden  taunt  in  the  warrior's 
words.  No  man  in  the  whole  Pottawatomie  nation 
was  reputed  to  have  such  clearness  of  eyesight  as 
the  Black  Partridge.  The  readiness  with  which 
he  could  distinguish  objects  so  distant  as  to  be  in- 
visible to  other  men  had  passed  into  a  proverb 
among  his  neighbors,  who  believed  that  his  inward 

visions  "  in  some  manner  furthered  this  extraor- 
dinary outward  eyesight. 

The  chief  flashed  a  scornful  glance  upon  his  at- 
tendant and,  quite  naturally,  toward  the  designated 


68  The  Sun  Maid. 

object.  White  Pelican  saw  his  gaze  become  intent 
and  his  indifference  give  way  to  amazement.  Then, 
with  a  cry  of  alarm,  that  was  half  incredulity,  the 
Black  Partridge  wheeled  and  struck  out  swiftly 
toward  the  west. 

"  Ugh!  It  looked  unusual,  even  to  me,  but  my 
father  has  recognized  something  beyond  my  guess- 
ing. He  rides  like  the  wind,  yet  his  horse  was  well 
spent  an  hour  ago." 

Regardless  of  his  own  recent  eagerness  to  be  at 
Muck-otey-pokee,  and  relating  the  day's  doings  to 
an  admiring  circle  of  stay-at-homes,  the  young  brave 
followed  his  leader.  In  a  brief  time  they  came  up 
with  a  wild,  high-spirited  white  horse,  which  rushed 
frantically  from  point  to  point  in  the  vain  hope  of 
shaking  from  its  back  a  burden  to  which  it  was  not 
used. 

"  Souls  of  my  ancestors!     It  is — the  Snowbird!  " 

"  It  is  the  Sun  Maid  !  "  returned  Black  Partridge. 

But  for  all  his  straining  vision,  White  Pelican 
could  not  make  out  that  it  was  indeed  that  wonder- 
ful child  who  was  wrapped  and  bundled  in  the  long 
blanket  and  lashed  to  the  Snowbird's  back  by  many 
thongs  of  leather.  Not  until,  by  one  dexterous 
swoop  of  his  horsehair  rope,  the  chief  collared  the 
terrified  mare  and  brought  her  to  her  knees. 

"  Cut  the  straps.     Set  the  child  free," 

The  brave  promptly    obeyed ;    while    the   chief. 


SNOWBIRD    AND    THE    SUN    MAID 


The  Three  Gifts.  69 

holding  the  struggHng  mare  with  one  hand,  care- 
fully drew  the  Sun  Maid  from  her  swathing  blanket 
and  laid  her  across  his  shoulder.  Her  little  figure 
hung  limp  and  relaxed  where  it  was  placed,  and  he 
saw  that  she  had  fainted. 

"  Take  her  to  that  row  of  alder  bushes  yonder. 
There  should  be  water  there.  I  '11  finish  what  has 
been  begun,  and  prove  whether  this  is  a  beast  be- 
witched, or  only  a  vicious  mare  that  needs  a 
master." 

The  White  Pelican  would  have  preferred  the  horse- 
breaking  to  acting  as  child's  nurse  to  this  uncanny 
small  maiden  who  had  ridden  a  creature  none  other 
in  his  tribe  would  have  attempted.  But  he  did  as 
he  was  bidden  and  laid  the  little  one  down  in  the 
cooling  shade  of  the  alders.  Then  he  put  the 
water  on  her  face  and  forced  a  few  drops  between 
her  parted  lips.  After  that  he  fixed  all  his  atten- 
tion on  the  efforts  of  Black  Partridge  to  bring  into 
subjection  the  unbroken  mare. 

However,  the  efforts  were  neither  very  severe  nor 
long  continued.  Like  many  another,  the  Snowbird 
had  received  a  worse  name  than  she  deserved,  and 
she  had  already  been  well  wearied  by  her  wild  gallop 
on  the  prairie.  She  had  done  her  best  to  throw  and 
kill  the  child  which  Osceolo  had  bound  upon  her 
back,  but  she  had  only  succeeded  in  tightening 
the    bands   and    exhaustine   both    herself  and   her 


70  The  Sun  Maid. 

unconscious  rider.  More  than  that,  Black  Partridge 
had  a  will  stronger  than  hers  and  it  conquered. 

"  Well,  I  did  ride  a  long,  long  way,  did  n't  I  ? 
Feather-man,  did  you  put  Kitty  on  the  nice  cool 
grass  ?  Will  you  give  Kitty  another  drink  of  water  ? 
I  guess  I  'm  pretty  tired,  ain't  I  ?  " 

These  words  recalled  the  White  Pelican's  atten- 
tion to  his  charge, 

"  Ugh!     It  's  a  wonder  you  're  alive." 

"  Is  it  ?  I  rode  till  I  got  so  sleepy  I  could  n't 
see.  The  sky  kept  whirling  and  whirling,  and  the 
sun  did  come  right  down  into  my  face.  And  I  got 
so  twisted  up  I  could  n't  breathe.  I  guess — I  guess 
I  don't  much  love  that  Osceolo.  He  said  it  would 
be  fun,  and  it  was  —  a  while.  But  he  did  n't  come, 
too,  and  —  I  'm  glad  I  'm  here  now.  Who  's  that 
walking  ?  Oh !  my  own  Black  Partridge,  the  nicest 
Feather-man  there  is!  " 

The  Sun  Maid  sat  up  and  lifted  her  arms  to  be 
taken,  while  she  bestowed  upon  the  chief  one  of  her 
sweetest  smiles.  But  he  received  it  gravely,  and 
regarded  the  child  in  her  new  Indian  dress  with  crit- 
ical scrutiny.  Who  had  thus  clothed  her  he  could 
not  surmise,  for  too  short  a  time  had  elapsed  since 
he  had  taken  her  to  his  village  for  his  sister  to  pre- 
pare these  well-fitting  garments.  Finally,  supersti- 
tion began  to  influence  him  also,  as  it  had  influenced 
the  weaker-minded  people  at  Muck-otey-pokee,  as 


The  Three  Gifts.  71 

he   spoke   to   the    White    Pelican,   rather   than    to 
the  child. 

"  Place  her  upon  the  Snowbird.  They  belong 
to  each  other,  though  I  know  not  how  they  found 
one  another." 

Osceolo,"  answered  the  younger  brave,  tersely. 

"  Humph!  Then  there  's  more  of  black  spirits 
than  white  in  this  affair.  However,  I  have  spoken. 
Place  the  Sun  Maid  on  the  Snowbird's  back." 

Kitty  would  have  objected  and  strongly ;  but 
there  was  something  so  unusually  stern  in  the  elder 
warrior's  face  and  so  full  of  hatred  in  that  of  the 
younger  that  she  was  bewildered  and  wisely  kept 
silence. 

Having  made  a  comfortable  saddle  out  of  the 
long  blanket,  they  seated  her  again  upon  the  white 
mare's  back,  and  each  on  either  side,  they  led  her 
slowly  toward  Muck-otey-pokee.  But  the  little  one 
had  again  fallen  asleep  long  before  they  reached  it, 
and  now  there  could  have  been  no  gentler  mount 
for  so  helpless  a  rider  than  this  suddenly  tamed 
White  Snowbird. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  village  Wahneenah  met 
them.  She  had  again  put  on  her  mourning  garb, 
and  her  hair  was  unplaited,  while  the  lines  of  her 
face  had  deepened  perceptibly.  She  had  lamented 
to  Katasha: 

"  The  Great  Spirit  sent  me  back  my  lost  ones  in 


72  The  Sun  Maid. 

the  form  of  the  Sun  Maid,  and  because  of  my  own 
carelessness  and  sternness  He  has  recalled  her. 
Now  is  our  separation  complete,  and  not  even  in  the 
Unknown  Land  shall  I  find  them  again." 

But  the  One-Who-Knows  had  answered,  im- 
patiently : 

Leave  be.  Whatever  is  must  happen.  The 
child  is  safe.  Nothing  can  harm  her.  Has  she  not 
the  three  gifts  ?  The  White  Necklace  from  the 
shore  of  the  Sea-without-end  ? '  The  White  Bow 
from  the  eternal  north  ?  and  the  White  Snowbird, 
into  which  entered  the  white  soul  of  a  blameless 
virgin  ?  Have  I  not  clothed  her  with  the  garb  of 
our  people  ?  You  are  a  fool,  Wahneenah.  Go  hide 
in  your  wigwam,  and  keep  silence." 

This  was  good  advice,  but  Wahneenah  could  n't 
take  it.  She  was  too  human,  too  motherly,  and 
under  all  her  superstition,  too  sure  of  the  Sun 
Maid's  real  flesh-and-blood  existence  to  be  easily 
comforted.  So  she  went,  instead,  to  the  outskirts 
of  the  settlement  to  watch  for  what  might  be  com- 
ing of  good  or  ill.  And  so  she  came  all  the  sooner  to 
find  her  lost  darling,  and  she  vowed  within  herself 
that  never  again,  so  long  as  her  own  life  should  last, 
would  she  lose  sight  of  that  precious  golden  head. 

'•  My  Girl-Child!  My  White  Papoose,  Beloved! 
Found  again!     But  how  could  you?" 

'  Pacific  Ocean. 


The  Three  Gists.  73 

"  I  did  get  runned  away  with  myself  this  time, 
nice  Other  Mother.  Don't  look  at  Kitty  that  way. 
Kitty  is  very  hungry.  Nice  Black  Partridge 
Feather-man  did  find  me,  riding  and  riding  and 
riding.  The  pretty  Snowbird  had  lots  of  wings,  I 
guess,  for  she  flew  and  flew  and  flew.  But  I  did  n't 
see  Osceolo.  He  could  n't  have  come,  could  he  ? 
I  thought  he  was  coming,  too,  when  he  clapped  his 
hands  and  shooed  me  off  so  fast.      Where  is  he  ?  " 

That  was  what  several  were  desirous  to  learn. 
The  affair  had  turned  out  much  better  than  might 
have  been  expected,  but  there  would  be  a  day  of 
reckoning  for  the  village  torment  when  he  and  its 
chief  should  chance  to  meet. 

Knowing  this,  Osceolo  remained  in  hiding  for 
some  time.  Until,  indeed,  his  curiosity  got  the 
better  of  his  discretion.  This  happened  when  the 
Man-Who-Kills  came  stealing  to  his  retreat  and 
begged  his  assistance, 

"  I  want  you  to  take  my  white  boy-captive  and 
lead  him  to  the  tepee  of  the  Woman-Who-Mourns. 
My  wife  Sorah  will  not  have  him  in  her  wigwam. 
She  says  that  from  the  moment  that  other  white 
child,  the  Sun  Maid,  came  to  the  lodge  of  Wahnee- 
nah,  there  has  been  trouble  without  end,  even 
though  all  the  three  charms  against  evil  have  been 
bestowed  upon  her.  There  are  no  charms  for  this 
dark  boy,  but  there  's  always  trouble  enough  (where 


74  The  Sun  Maid. 

Sorah  is).  He  's  so  worn  and  unhappy,  he  'II  make 
no  objection,  but  will  follow  like  a  dog.  He  neither 
speaks  nor  sleeps  nor  eats,  I  have  no  use  for  a  fool, 
I.  You  do  it,  Osceolo,  and  you  '11  see  what  I  will 
give  you  in  reward !  Also,  if  the  Woman-Who- 
Mourns  has  lost  the  Sun  Maid,  maybe  this  Dark- 
Eye  will  be  a  better  stayer." 

But  what  will  you  give  me,  Man-Who-Kills  ? 
I — I  think  I  'd  rather  not  meddle  any  more  with 
the  family  of  my  chief." 

"Ugh!  Are  a  coward,  eh?  Never  mind. 
There  are  other  lads  at  Muck-otey-pokee,  and 
plenty  of  plunder  in  my  wigwam." 

"  All  right.  Come  along,  Dark-Eye.  Might  as 
well  be  Dark-Brow,  too,  for  he  looks  like  a  night 
without  stars.  What  will  you  do  with  his  horse, 
Man-Who-Kills  ?" 

Let  you  ride  it  for  me,  sometimes." 

"  I  can  do  it  "  ;  and  without  further  delay,  lead- 
ing the  utterly  passive  and  disheartened  Caspar, 
the  Indian  lad  set  off  for  Wahneenah's  home.  The 
captive  had  no  expectation  of  anything  but  the  most 
dreadful  fate,  and  his  tired  brain  reeled  at  the  re- 
membrance of  what  he  might  yet  undergo.  Yet, 
what  use  to  resist  ? 

Meanwhile,  Osceolo,  confident  that  all  the  braves 
whom  he  need  fear  were  still  absent  from  the  vil- 
lage, started  his  charge  along  the  trail  at  a  rapid 


The  Three  Gists.  75 

pace,  and  reached  the  wigwam  of  the  Woman-Who- 
Mourns  at  the  very  moment  when  Black  Partridge, 
White  PeUcan,  and  the  Sun  Maid  came  riding  to  it 
from  the  prairie. 

She  was  alive,  then !  She  was,  in  truth,  a 
"  spirit  "  !  His  mischievousness  had  had  no  power 
to  harm  her,  she  was  exempt  from  any  ill  that  might 
befall  another,  she  had  come  back  to —  How  could 
such  an  innocent-appearing  creature  punish  one  who 
had  so  misled  her  ? 

He  had  no  time  to  guess.  For  the  child  had 
caught  sight  of  the  stupid  lad  he  was  leading,  and 
with  a  cry  of  ecstacy  had  sprung  from  the  Snowbird 
and  landed  plump  upon  the  prisoner's  shoulders. 

"  Caspar!  My  Gaspar,  my  Caspar!  Mine,  mine, 
mine!  " 

It  was  a  transformation  scene.  The  white  boy 
had  staggered  under  the  unexpected  assault  of  his 
old  playmate,  but  he  had  instantly  recognized  her. 
With  a  cry  as  full  of  joy  as  her  own,  he  clasped  her 
close,  and  showered  his  kisses  on  her  upturned  face. 

"  Kitty!  why,  Kitty!  You  are  n't  dead,  then  ? 
You  are  not  hurt  ?  And  we  thought — oh,  Kitty, 
Kitty,  Kitty!  " 

Clinging  to  each  other,  they  slipped  to  the 
ground,  too  absorbed  in  themselves  to  notice  any- 
thing else ;  while  Osceolo  watched  them  in  almost 
equal  absorption. 


76  The  Sun  Maid. 

But  he  was  roused  sooner  than  they.     A  hand  fell 
on  his  shoulder.     A  hand  whose  touch  could  be  as 
gentle  as  a  woman's,  but  was  now  like  a  steel  band 
crushing  the  very  bones. 
Osceolo!  " 

"  Yes,   Black  Partridge,"  quavered  the  terrified 
lad. 

"  You  will  come  to  my  tepee.     Alone!  " 


CHAPTER    VII. 

A   THREEFOLD   CORD    IS    STRONGEST, 

SHE  is  a  spirit.  I  know  that  nothing  can  harm 
her.  Yet  many  things  can  harm  me.  I 
have  no  desire  to  suffer  any  further  anxiety.  There- 
fore—  this.  My  Girl-Child,  my  White  Papoose, 
come  here." 

The  Sun  Maid  reluctantly  obeyed.  It  was  the 
morning  after  her  perilous  ride  on  the  back  of  an 
untamed  horse  and  her  joyful  reunion  with  Caspar, 
her  old  playmate  of  the  Fort.  The  two  were  now 
just  without  the  wigwam  of  Wahneenah,  sitting 
clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  as  if  fearful  that  a 
fresh  separation  awaited  them  should  they  once 
relinquish  this  tight  hold  of  one  another;  and  it 
was  in  much  the  same  feeling  that  the  foster-mother 
regarded  them. 

But  why,  Other  Mother  ?     I  do  love  my  Caspar 
boy.      I  did  know  him  always." 

"  You  've  known  me  two  years,  Kitty,"  corrected 
the  truthful  lad.  "  But  I  suppose  that  is  as  long  as 
you  can  remember.     You  're  such  a  baby." 

How  old  is  the  Sun  Maid — as  you  white  people 
reckon  ages  ?  "  asked  Wahneenah. 

77 


78  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  She  is  five  years  old.  Her  birthday  was  on  the 
Fourth  of  July.  We  had  a  celebration.  Our  Cap- 
tain fired  as  many  rounds  of  ammunition  as  she  was 
years  old.  The  mothers  made  her  a  cake,  with 
sugar  on  the  top,  and  with  five  little  candles  they 
made  themselves  on  purpose,  and  colored  with  straw- 
berry juice.  Oh,  surely,  there  never  was  such  a  cake 
in  all  the  world  as  they  made  for  our  '  baby!  '  " 
cried  the  lad,  forgetting  for  the  moment  present 
troubles  in  this  delightful  memory. 

"  Well,    there  are  other  women   who   can   make 
other  cakes,"  said  Wahneenah,  with  ready  jealousy. 
Oh,  but  an  Indian  cake —  "'  began  Gaspar,  then 
stopped  abruptly,  frightened  at  his  own  boldness. 

Wahneenah  smiled.  For  small  Kitty  was  swift 
to  see  the  change  in  her  playmate's  face,  and  her 
own  caught,  for  an  instant,  a  reflection  of  its  fear. 
The  foster-mother  wished  to  banish  this  fear. 

Wahneenah  likes  those  who  say  their  thoughts 
out  straight  and  clear.  She  is  the  sister  of  the 
Man-Who-Cannot-Lie.  It  is  the  crime  of  the  pale- 
faces that  they  will  lie,  and  always.  Wherefore, 
they  are  always  in  danger.  Take  warning.  Learn 
to  be  truth-tellers,  like  the  Pottawatomies,  and  you 
will  have  no  trouble." 

A  quick  retort  rose  to  Caspar's  lips,  but  he  sub- 
dued it.  Then  he  watched  what  was  being  done 
to  Kitty,  and  a  faint  smile  brightened  his  face,  that 


A  Threefold  Cord  is  Strongest.  79 

had  been  so  far  too  gloomy  for  his  years.  Wah- 
neenah  had  made  a  long  rope  of  horsehair,  gaily 
adorned  with  beads  and  trinkets,  and  was  fastening 
it  about  the  Sun  Maid's  waist.  The  little  one  sub- 
mitted merrily,  at  first;  but  when  it  flashed  through 
her  mind  that  she  was  thus  being  made  a  prisoner, 
being  "  tied  up,"  she  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of 
tears  and  temper  that  astonished  the  others,  and 
even  herself. 

"  I  will  not  be  '  tied  up!  '  I  was  not  a  naughty 
girl.  When  I  am  bad,  I  will  be  punished,  and  I 
will  not  cry  nor  stamp  my  feet.  But  when  I  am 
good,  I  will  be  free  —  free!  There  shall  nobody, 
nobody  do  this  to  me !  Not  any  single  body.  Gas- 
par,  will  you  let  her  do  it  ?  " 

The  boy's  timidity  flew  to  the  winds.  His  dark 
eyes  flashed  with  indignation,  and  his  heavy  brows 
contracted  in  a  fierce  scowl.  At  that  instant,  he 
appeared  much  older  than  he  really  was,  and  he 
advanced  upon  Wahneenah  with  upraised  hand  and 
threatening  gesture. 

She  might  easily  have  picked  him  up  and  tossed 
him  out  of  the  way ;  but  there  is  nothing  an  Indian 
woman  admires  more  greatly  than  courage.  In  this 
she  does  not  differ  from  her  pale-faced  sisters,  and, 
instead  of  resenting  Caspar's  rudeness,  she  smiled 
upon  him. 

"  That  is  right,  Dark- Eye.      It  is  a  warrior's  duty 


8o  The  Sun  Maid. 

to  protect  his  women.  You  are  not  yet  a  warrior, 
nor  is  the  Sun  Maid  yet  a  woman,  but  as  you  begin 
so  you  will  continue.  Hear  me.  Let  us  make 
compact.  I  was  fastening  the  child  for  her  own 
good,  not  in  punishment.  Is  that  a  white  mother's 
custom  ?  Well,  this  is  better.  Let  us  three  pledge 
our  word :  each  to  watch  over  and  protect  the  other 
so  long  as  our  lives  last.  The  Great  Spirit  sent  the 
Sun  Maid  into  my  arms,  by  the  hands  of  Black 
Partridge,  my  brother  and  my  chief.  The  meanest 
Indian  in  Muck-otey-pokee  brought  you  to  the  vil- 
lage, and  the  meanest  boy  to  my  wigwam.  But 
when  the  chief  saw  you,  he  took  you  by  the  hand, 
and  gave  you,  also,  to  me.  A  triple  bond  is  the 
strongest.     Shall  we  clasp  hand  upon  it  ?  " 

It  was  a  curious  proceeding  for  one  so  much  older 
than  these  children,  but  it  was  in  profoundest  earn- 
est. Wahneenah  recognized  in  Caspar  a  represen- 
tative of  a  race  whose  wisdom  exceeded  that  of  her 
own,  even  if,  as  she  believed,  its  morality  was  of  a 
lower  standard.  But  her  brother  and  the  other 
braves  had  already  told  her  of  his  great  courage  on 
the  day  before,  and  of  his  wonderful  skill  with  the 
bow  and  arrow.  He  had  done  a  man's  work,  even 
though  a  stripling,  and  she  would  accord  him  a 
man's  honor.  As  for  the  Sun  Maid,  despite  her 
very  human-like  temper,  she  was,  of  course,  a  being 
above  mortal,  and  therefore  fit  to  "  compact  "  with 


A  Threefold  Cord  is  Strongest.  8i 

anybody,  even  had  it  been  the  case  with  one  as 
venerable  as  old  Katasha.  So  she  felt  that  there 
was  nothing  derogatory  to  her  own  dignity  in  her 
request. 

Caspar  fixed  his  piercing  eyes  upon  Wahneenah's 
face,  and  studied  it  carefully. 

The  penetration  of  a  child  is  keen,  and  not  easily 
deceived.  What  he  read  in  the  Indian  woman's 
unflinching  gaze  satisfied  him,  for  after  this  brief 
delay,  he  lay  his  thin  boyish  hand  within  the  ex- 
tended palm  in  entire  trust.  Of  course,  what  Gas- 
par  did  Kitty  was  bound  to  do.  To  her  it  was  a 
game,  and  her  own  plump  little  fingers  closed  about 
the  backs  of  the  lad's  with  a  mischievous  pinch. 
Already  her  anger  had  disappeared,  and  her  sunny 
face  was  dimpling  with  laughter. 

Kitty  was  dreadful  bad,  was  n't  she  ?  She 
would  n't  be  tied  up  first,  because  she  was  n't 
naughty.  Now  she  has  been  bad  as  bad,  she  did 
stamp  and  scream  so;  and  she  may  be  tied,  if  Other 
Mother  wishes.  Do  you,  nice  Other  Mother  ?  It 
is  a  very  pretty  string.  It  would  n't  hurt,  I 
guess." 

But  Wahneenah's  desire  to  fasten  her  ward  to  the 
lodge-pole  had  vanished.  She  would  far  rather  trust 
the  true,  loving  eyes  of  the  boy  Caspar  than  the 
stoutest  horsehair  rope  ever  woven. 

"  We  will  tie  nobody.     But  hear  me,  my  children, 

6 


82  The  Sun  Maid. 

for  you  are  both  mine  now.  In  this  village  are 
many  friends  and  more  enemies.  Braves  and  their 
families,  from  other  villages  and  other  branches  of 
our  tribe,  have  raised  their  tepees  here.  It  is  easier 
for  them  to  do  this  than  to  build  villages  of  their 
own,  and  we  are  hospitable  people.  When  a  guest 
comes  to  us,  he  must  stay  until  he  chooses  to  go 
away  again,  and  there  are  none  who  would  bid  them 
depart.  Some  of  other  tribes  than  our  own  are  also 
here.  It  is  they  who  are  stirring  up  much  mischief. 
They  are  giving  the  Black  Partridge  anxiety ;  they 
will  not  be  wise.  They  will  not  learn  that  their 
only  safety  lies  in  friendship  with  the  white  faces. 
Therefore  the  heart  of  our  chief  is  heavy  with  fore- 
boding. He  has  the  inner  vision.  To  him  all 
things  are  clear  that  to  us  are  quite  invisible.  This 
is  his  command  to  me,  ere  he  departed  in  the  dawn 
of  this  day,  to  seek  our  friends  who  were  of  the 
Fort,  and  help  them  in  their  need,  if  need  again 
arises.     Listen  to  the  words  of  Black  Partridge : 

"  *  Have  these  white  children  trained  to  ride  as 
an  Indian  rides.  The  boy  Caspar  is  to  be  given  the 
black  gelding,  Tempest,  for  his  very  own.  I  shall 
see  the  man  who  owns  it,  and  I  will  pay  his  cost. 
The  White  Snowbird  belongs  to  the  Sun  Maid. 
Let  nobody  else  dare  touch  the  mare,  except  to 
handle  it  in  care.  The  day  is  coming  when  they 
will  need  to  ride  fast  and  far,  and  with  more  skill 


A  Threefold  Cord  is  Strongest.  83 

than  on  yesterday.  The  Snake-Who-Leaps  is  the 
best  horseman  in  our  tribe.  I  have  bidden  him 
come  to  this  tepee  when  the  sun  crosses  the  meri- 
dian. He  is  friendly  to  these  prisoners,  because 
they  are  mine,  and  he  will  guide  them  well.'  " 

Caspar's  eyes  had  opened  to  their  widest  extent. 
The  words  he  had  heard  seemed  incredible;  yet  he 
was  shrewd  and  practical  by  nature,  and  he  promptly 
inquired : 

"  Why  ?  Why  will  the  Indian  chief  bestow  so 
rich  a  gift  upon  his  white  boy-prisoner  ?  For  if  he 
buys  Tempest  from  the  Captain  he  will  have  to  pay 
big  money.  There  is  n't  another  like  the  black 
gelding  this  side  that  far-away  Kentucky  where  he 
was  bred." 

"  Hear  me,  Caspar  Keith;  prisoner,  if  you  will. 
But  I  would  rather  call  you  an  adopted  son  of  the 
Black  Partridge,  and  by  your  new  name  of  Dark- 
Eye.  This  is  the  reason :  In  these  troubles  which 
are  coming,  you  may  not  only  serve  yourself,  the 
Sun  Maid,  and  me,  by  having  as  your  own  the 
gelding  Tempest,  but  you  may  help  the  helpless, 
also.  In  this  one  village  of  Muck-otey-pokee  are 
many  old  and  many  very  young.  The  Spotted 
Adder  was  the  oldest  man  I  ever  knew,  and  though 
he  has  died  just  now,  there  are  others  almost  of  his 
age.  They  ought  to  die,  too,  and  not  burden  bet- 
ter  people.      But    nobody    dies   who  should   while 


84  The  Sun  Maid. 

those  who  should  not  are  snatched  away  like  a 
feather  on  the  breeze." 

Here  Wahneenah  became  absorbed  in  her  own 
reflections,  and  was  so  long  silent  that  Kitty  stole 
her  arms  about  the  woman's  neck  and  kissed  the 
dark  face  to  remind  her  that  they  were  still  listening. 

"  Yes,  beloved,  Child  of  the  Sunshine  and  Love! 
You  do  well  to  call  me  back.  Let  the  dead  rest. 
You  are  the  living.  I  will  remember  only  you," 
and  she  laid  the  little  one  against  her  heart. 

"  Caspar,  too.  Other  Mother,"  suggested  the 
loyal  little  maid. 

But  Gaspar  was  quite  able  to  speak  for  himself. 

"  No  decent  white  person  would  wish  the  old  to 
die!  "  he  exclaimed,  hotly.  "  There  was  a  grand- 
mother at  our  Fort,  and  she  was  the  best  loved,  the 
best  cared  for,  of  all  the  women.  That  is  what  a 
white  boy  thinks,  even  if  he  is  an  Indian's  prisoner !  " 

"  Ugh!  So?  You  are  an  odd  youth,  Dark-Eye. 
As  timid  as  a  wild  pigeon  one  minute,  and  the  next 
— flouting  your  chief's  sister." 

"  I  don't  mean  that,  Wahneenah.  I — I  only — I 
don't  just  know  what  I  do  mean,  except  that  it 
seems  cowardly  to  wish  the  old  should  die.  If  you 
should  grow  very,  very  old  some  day,  and  Kitty  and 
I  should  not  be  —  be  nice  to  you,  then  you  would 
understand  what  I  feel,  if  I  cannot  say  it  rightly." 

Wahneenah  laughed. 


A  Threefold  Cord  is  Strongest.  85 

"  Your  halting  speech  makes  me  happy,  Dark- 
Eye.  Kitty  and  you  and  I ;  still  all  together,  even 
when  age  shall  have  diinmed  my  sight  and  dulled 
my  hearing.  It  is  well.  I  am  satisfied.  But  hear 
me.  Herein  lies  the  trouble:  when  folks  are  young 
they  forget  that  they  will  ever  be  old.  That  is  a 
mistake.  One  should  remember  that  youth  flies 
away,  fast,  fast.  They  should  teach  themselves 
wisdom.  They  should  learn  to  be  skilled  in  the 
things  which  will  make  them  lovely  when  they  are 
old.  For,  despite  your  judgment,  there  are  some 
among  us  whom  we  would  keep  till  all  generations 
are  past.  Katasha,  the  One-Who-Knows;  and  the 
Snake-Who-Leaps  —  why,  he  is  older  even  than 
Katasha.  Yet  there  is  nobody  can  ride  a  horse,  or 
shoot  a  flying  bird,  or  bring  in  the  game  that  he  can. 
He  is  the  friend  of  his  chief.  He  is  the  most 
honored  one  in  our  whole  village.  Why  ?  Because 
he  makes  few  promises,  and  breaks  none.  He  has 
never  lowered  his  manhood  by  drinking  the  fire- 
water that  addles  one's  brains  and  sets  the  limbs 
a-tremble.  He  has  talked  little  and  done  much. 
He  is  One-To-Be-Trusted.  That  was  his  name  in 
his  youth,  when  he  began  to  practise  all  his  virtues. 
The  other  name  came  afterward,  because  of  the 
swift  punishment  he  can  also  inflict  upon  his 
enemies.  You  would  do  well  to  pattern  after  your 
teacher,  Dark-Eye." 


86  The  Sun  Maid. 

Caspar  listened  respectfully ;  but  this  sounded  so 
very  much  like  the  "  lectures  "  he  had  received  at 
the  Fort  that  it  had  less  originality  than  most  of 
Wahneenah's  conversations;  and,  besides  that,  he 
had  just  espied,  approaching  over  the  village  street, 
a  tall  Indian  leading  the  black  gelding  and  Snow- 
bird. Behind  this  man  walked  Osceolo  ;  but  greatly 
changed  from  the  bullying  youth  whom  Caspar  had 
met  on  the  previous  day. 

Whatever  had  occurred  in  the  closed  tepee  of 
Black  Partridge,  when  its  door  flaps  fell  behind 
himself  and  the  lad  he  had  ordered  to  accompany 
him,  nobody  knew;  but,  whatever  it  was,  Osceolo 
was  certainly — at  least  for  the  time  being — a  changed 
young  person. 

He  walked  along  behind  the  Snake-Who-Leaps 
in  a  meek,  subdued  manner  quite  new  to  him,  but 
which  immediately  impressed  Dark-Eye  as  being  a 
vast  improvement  on  his  former  bearing.  He 
paused,  when  ordered  to  "  Halt!  "  by  the  old  man, 
as  if  he  had  been  stricken  into  a  wooden  image,  and 
only  when  requested  to  take  the  Snowbird's  bridle 
did  he  make  any  other  motion. 

"  Why,  Osceolo!  What  's  the  matter  ?"  asked 
the  Sun  Maid,  running  toward  him  in  surprise. 

But  he  did  not  answer,  and  she  was  hastily 
snatched  back  by  the  strong  hand  of  the  foster- 
mother. 


A  Threefold  Cord  is  Strongest.  87 

"  The  Girl-Child  speaks  to  none  who  is  in  dis- 
grace," 

"  But  I  will  speak  to  anybody  who  is  unhappy, 
Other  Mother!  I  cannot  help  that,  can  I  ?  One 
day,  Osceolo  was  all  laughing  and  clapping;  and 
now  —  now  he  looks  like  Peter  Wilson  did  after  his 
father  had  whipped  him  with  a  musket.  Did  any- 
body whip  you  with  a  musket,  poor,  poor  Osceolo  ?  " 

Not  a  sign  from  the  disgraced  youth. 

"  Has  you  lost  your  tongue,  too  ?  Well  as  your 
eyes,  that  you  can't  look  up  ?  Never  mind,  Os- 
ceolo. Kitty  is  sorry  for  you.  Some  day  Kitty 
will  let  you  ride  her  beau'ful  White  Snowbird  :  some 
day." 

"  The  Sun  Maid  will  first  learn  to  ride  the  Snow- 
bird, herself,"  corrected  the  Snake-Who-Leaps. 
"  She  will  begin  now." 

With  unquestioning  confidence,  a  confidence  that 
Caspar  did  not  share,  she  ran  back  to  the  old  war- 
rior's side,  and  stood  on  tiptoe  to  be  lifted  into 
place. 

"  Ugh!  "  he  grunted  in  satisfaction.  "  That  is 
well.  The  one  who  has  no  fear  has  already  con- 
quered the  wildest  animal.  But  the  White  Snow- 
bird is  not  wild.  She  has  been  given  an  evil  name, 
and  it  has  clung  to  her  as  evil  always  clings,"  and 
the  One-To-Be-Trusted  turned  to  give  his  silent 
attendant  a  meaning  glance.      But  Osceolo  had  not 


88  The  Sun  Maid. 

yet  raised  his  gaze  from  the  ground,  and  the  reproof 
fell  pointless. 

Nobody  had  observed  that,  from  another  direc- 
tion, another  youth  had  quietly  led  up  a  beau- 
tiful chestnut  horse,  whose  cream-colored  mane 
and  tail  would  have  made  it  a  conspicuous  object 
anywhere;  but  Wahneenah  had  expected  this  addi- 
tion to  their  equestrian  party  and,  as  she  turned  to 
look  for  it,  exclaimed  in  pleasure  at  its  prompt 
appearance. 

The  Snake-Who-Leaps  heard  her  ejaculation,  and 
evinced  his  disgust. 

"  Ugh!  Is  it  to  teach  a  lot  of  women  and  a 
worthless  pale-faced  lad  that  I  have  left  the  comfort 
of  my  own  lodge  this  hot  summer  day  ?  " 

"  The  old  forget.  It  was  long  ago,  when  I  was 
no  bigger  than  the  Sun  Maid  here,  that  the  One- 
To-Be-Trusted  took  me  behind  him  on  a  wild  ride 
over  the  prairie.  It  was  the  only  lesson  he  ever 
gave  —  or  needed  to  give  —  me.  I  will  show  him 
that  I  am  still  young  enough  to  remember!  "  cried 
Wahneenah,  with  all  the  gayety  of  girlhood,  and 
with  so  complete  a  change  in  her  appearance  that 
it  was  easy  to  see  how  she  had  come  to  be  named 
The  Happy. 

Even  before  the  teacher  had  settled  the  Sun 
Maid  in  her  tiny  blanket  saddle,  Wahneenah  had 
sprung  upon  the  chestnut's  back.     As  she  touched 


A  Threefold  Cord  is  Strongest.  89 

it,    a   clear,    determined,    if   very    youthful   voice, 
shouted  behind  her: 

"  I  am  a  white  man!  No  Indian  shall  ever  teach 
me  a  thing  that  I  can  learn  for  myself!  " 

For  suddenly  Gaspar  remembered  the  wrongs  he 
had  suffered  at  the  red-men's  hands,  and  leaped  to 
Tempest's  back  unaided.  Another  instant,  and  the 
trio  of  riders  dashed  away  from  Muck-otey-pokee 
in  a  mad  rush  that  left  their  disgruntled  instructor 
in  doubt  which  was  the  better  pupil  of  them  all. 

"  Who  begins  slow  finishes  fast;  but  who  begins 
fast  may  never  live  to  finish  slow,"  he  remarked, 
sententiously ;  then  observing  that  Osceolo  had,  for 
the  first  time,  raised  his  eyes,  he  promptly  laid  a 
heavy  hand  upon  the  youth's  shoulder  and  wheeled 
him  about. 

To  my  wigwam — march !  ' ' 

And  Osceolo  marched — exactly  as  if  all  his  limbs 
were  sticks  and  his  joints  mechanical. 

"Ugh!  So?  Like  the  jointed  dolls  of  the 
papooses,  eh  ?  Very  good.  Keep  at  it.  From 
now  till  those  three  return,  dead  or  alive,  my  fine 
young  warrior,  you  shall  be  my  pupil.  You  have 
set  me  the  pace  you  like.  You  may  keep  at  it. 
From  the  locust  tree  east  of  my  lodge  to  the  paw- 
paw on  the  west,  as  the  branch  swings  in  the  wind, 
so  shall  you  swing.  Ugh !  May  they  ride  far  and 
long.     One — two — commence!" 


90  The  Sun  Maid. 

It  was  noonday  when  he  began  that  weary,  weary 
automatic  "  step,  step  "  ;  but  when  the  last  rays  of 
the  sun  had  disappeared  beyond  the  prairie,  Osceolo 
was  still  enduring  his  discipline,  and  making  his 
pendulum-like  journey  from  locust-tree  to  pawpaw, 
from  pawpaw  to  locust.  His  head  swam,  his  sight 
dimmed,  but  still  sat  stolid  Snake-Who-Leaps  in 
the  entrance  of  his  tepee,  "  instructing  "  the  only 
pupil  fate  had  left  him. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

AN    ISLAND    RETREAT. 

UNDER  the  incentive  of  love  and  excitement — 
heightened  by  a  tinge  of  jealousy  —  all  Wah- 
neenah's  former  skill  in  horsemanship  returned  to 
her.  When  the  Snake- Who- Leaps  lifted  the  Sun 
Maid  to  the  back  of  the  Snowbird  the  woman  felt 
an  unreasoning  anger  against  him.  She  could  not 
patiently  endure  to  have  any  other  hand  than  her 
own  touch  the  small  body  of  her  adopted  child, 
upon  whom  had  now  centred  all  the  pent-up  affec- 
tion of  her  starved  heart. 

If  my  darling  must  be  taught,  I  will  teach  her 
myself!  "  she  suddenly  resolved,  and  promptly 
acted  upon  the  resolution.  Previously,  and  when 
she  ordered  the  chestnut  to  be  brought  to  her  tepee, 
she  had  merely  intended  to  ride  in  company  with 
the  others  and  in  a  limited  circle  about  the  village. 
Now  a  mad  impulse  seized  her  to  be  off  over  the 
prairie,  farther  than  sight  could  reach,  and  on  half- 
forgotten  trails  once  familiar  to  her.  It  was  the 
first  time  she  had  mounted  any  animal  since  her 
widowhood. 

91 


92  The  Sun  Maid. 

When  she  heard  Caspar's  daring  declaration ;  she 
thrilled  with  delight.  All  the  savage  in  her  nature 
roused  to  enjoy  this  wild  escapade,  and,  catching 
firm  hold  of  the  Sun  Maid's  bridle  rein,  she  nodded 
over  her  shoulder  to  the  lad,  and  led  the  way 
northward. 

"  It  's  like  that  strange  fairy  story,  in  the  book 
given  Peter  Wilson,  that  came  from  way  over  in 
England,  and  was  the  only  one  in  the  world,  I 
guess.  Was  the  only  one  at  our  Fort,  anyway," 
thought  Gaspar,  as  he  followed  in  equal  speed,  and 
at  imminent  risk  of  his  life.  For  a  night's  rest  had 
restored  the  black  gelding  to  all  his  spirit,  and  had 
the  boy  attempted  to  guide  or  control  him  there 
would  have  been  serious  trouble. 

As  it  was,  Gaspar  confined  his  efforts  to  just 
sticking  on,  and  had  all  he  could  do  at  that;  but 
after  a  short  distance,  the  three  horses  broke  into  an 
even  lope,  keeping  well  together,  and  all  under  the 
command  of  the  Indian  woman. 

"  Oh,  I  love  it !  "  she  cried,  the  rich  blood  flaming 
under  her  dusky  skin,  her  eyes  sparkling,  and  her 
long  black  hair  streaming  on  the  wind  which  their 
own  motion  created. 

"  Kitty  loves  it  —  too  —  Kitty  guesses!  "  echoed 
the  child,  entering  into  the  other's  mood  with  quick 
sympathy.  Indeed,  she  was  the  safer  of  the  three. 
There   is   a    hidden  understanding   between    horses 


An  Island  Retreat.  93 

and  children,  and  numberless  instances  prove  how 
carefully  even  an  untamed  beast  will  treat  a  little 
child — if  nobody  interferes.  But  let  an  adult  at- 
tempt to  avert  a  seeming  danger,  and  the  animal 
will  promptly  throw  the  responsibility  on  human 
shoulders,  and  act  out  its  own  mood  at  its  own  will. 

Wahneenah  understood  this,  and,  simply  leaving 
her  hand  upon  the  Snowbird's  rein,  but  quite  with- 
out any  pressure,  rode  where  that  frolicsome  creature 
chose  to  lead.  A  strap,  which  the  Snake-Who- 
Leaps  had  fastened  around  the  waist  of  the  Sun 
Maid,  held  her  securely  to  her  saddle,  though  her 
small  hands  clutched  the  flying  mane  of  her  mount 
so  tightly  that  she  could  not  well  have  been  shaken 
off. 

It  was  a  rough  school  in  which  to  learn  so  danger- 
ous an  art,  but  it  sufficed  ;  and  that  one  day's  ride 
did  more  to  help  Caspar  and  Kitty  to  good  horse- 
manship than  all  the  instruction  they  afterward 
received. 

"  How  far  —  nice  —  Other  Mother  ?"  asked  the 
little  girl,  when  the  three  horses  of  their  own  accord 
began  to  slacken  speed. 

"  Not  far  now,  papoose.  See  yonder,  where  the 
trees  fringe  the  river  ?  Among  those  trees  is  a 
wonderful  spot  I  know.  I  've  not  seen  it  for  years, 
but  in  its  shelter  my  warrior  and  I  spent  many 
happy  hours.      There  we  used  to  take  our  son,  and 


94  The  Sun  Maid. 

tell  him  the  story  of  his  people.  It  was  a  hiding- 
place,  in  the  ancient  years,  when  enemies  of  the 
Pottawatomies  were  on  the  war-path,  and  the  chief 
would  save  his  women  and  children.  But  nobody 
remembers  that  trail,  at  this  late  day,  except  those 
of  my  father's  house.  Besides  me,  not  one  soul 
lives  who  could  find  his  way  thither,  save  Black 
Partridge.  It  is  even  many  moons  since  he  has 
talked  with  me  about  it,  and  he  may  not  recall  it 
still.  Though  he  is  a  man  who  never  forgets,  and 
the  knowledge  is  doubtless  merely  sleeping  in  his 
brain." 

Kitty  Briscoe  understood  but  little  of  this  speech, 
but  Caspar's  interest  was  roused.  Amid  the  dis- 
cipline and  routine  of  his  old  life  at  the  Fort,  his 
lighter,  gayer  qualities  had  lain  dormant,  but  they 
were  now  rapidly  awakening  under  the  influence  of 
his  recent  adventures.  It  was  impossible,  too,  for 
anybody  to  be  long  with  Wahneenah,  in  her  present 
mood,  without  catching  her  spirit  and  gayety;  and 
though  the  Sun  Maid  comprehended  little  save  the 
liveliness  of  her  companions,  she  could  enter  into 
that  with  all  her  heart. 

Therefore,  it  was  a  merry  party  which  came  at 
last  to  the  river  bank,  where  the  horses  were  glad 
to  pause  for  rest,  and  where  they  would  eagerly 
have  slaked  their  thirst,  had  they  been  permitted. 

"  But  that  won't  do,  Wahneenah,   will  it  ?     At 


An  Island  Retreat.  95 

our  Fort  we  never  watered  a  horse  when  it  was 
warm.  The  Captain  said  they  would  be  ruined, 
so." 

"  You  do  well  to  remember  all  the  wisdom  you 
have  been  taught,  Dark-Eye.  Here,  let  me  show 
you  something  even  a  white  man  may  not  know. 
How  to  tether  a  horse  with  a  rope  of  prairie  grass, 
made  in  a  moment,  but  strong  enough  to  last  for 
long." 

"  Lift  me  off,  Other  Mother,"  cried  Kitty,  from 
the  Snowbird's  back,  and  Wahneenah  swung  her 
down. 

"  Now,  Dark-Eye,  pull  as  much  of  this  rush  grass 
as  your  arms  can  hold.  It  will  take  a  heap  for 
three  ropes." 

"  Have  the  pretty  ponies  been  naughty  ?  Must 
they  be  tied  up,  too  ?  " 

"  Not  because  they  are  bad,  but  because  they  are 
good,  papoose!  That  is  the  way  of  life.  It  is  full 
of  contradictions.  But,  don't  wrinkle  your  pretty 
brows  puzzling  what  you  cannot  understand.  Run 
and  help  the  Dark- Eye  pull  the  long  grasses." 

It  was  so  wonderful  to  see  Wahneenah's  skilful 
fingers  twist  and  turn  and  thread  the  slender  blades 
in  and  out  that  both  children  were  fascinated  by  her 
deftness;  and  though  Caspar  could  not  at  all  catch 
the  trick  of  this  curious  weaving,  he  resolved  to 
practise  it  in  private  till  he  could  equal,  or  excel, 


96  The  Sun  Maid. 

this  example.  Again  his  ambition  arose  to  prove 
that  a  pale-face  was  always  superior  to  an  Indian, 
and  his  dark  eyes  gazed  so  fixedly  upon  Wahnee- 
nah's  flying  fingers  that  she  laughed,  and  demanded  : 

"  Are  you  jealous,  my  son  ?  But  there  's  no 
need.  Nothing  that  I  know  will  be  hidden  from 
you,  if  you  choose  to  be  taught.  But,  come.  Take 
this  rope  that  is  finished.  Twist  it  about  the  geld- 
ing's neck — so;  now  pass  it  downward  between  his 
front  legs  and  hopple  him  by  the  right  hind  one. 
No,  he  '11  not  resist.  Try  it.  Then  you  '11  see 
that  he  '11  neither  nibble  at  his  tether  nor  run  away 
from  us." 

Caspar  was  too  proud  to  show  that  he  somewhat 
dreaded  interfering  with  the  restless  legs  of  the 
spirited  Tempest,  and  to  his  astonishment  he  found 
that  the  animal  submitted  very  quietly  to  the  tying. 
This  may  have  been  because  Wahneenah  stood  by 
its  beautiful  head  and  murmured  some  soft  sounds 
into  its  dainty  ears.  Though  what  the  murmuring 
meant  nobody  save  herself  and  Tempest  under- 
stood. In  like  manner,  and  very  quickly,  all  three 
horses  were  fastened  in  the  shade  of  the  trees,  and 
as  soon  as  they  had  cooled  sufficiently,  Caspar  was 
bidden  to  water  them. 

Then  the  Sun  Maid  was  called  from  her  play 
among  the  wild  flowers  that  fringed  the  bank,  and 
made  to  walk  behind  Wahneenah 's  skirts. 


An  Island  Retreat.  97 

"  Cling  close,  my  Girl-Child  !  We  're  going  into 
fairyland.  Bow  your  pretty  head  till  it  is  low — low 
— low  down,  like  this";  and  herself  bending  till 
her  own  head  was  very  near  the  earth,  the  guide 
pushed  forward  into  what  appeared  to  be  a  solid 
tangle  of  bushes. 

"Why,  Wahneenah!  You  can't  go  through 
there.  It  's  a  regular  hedge.  But  if  you  want  to 
try,  I  have  a  little  knife  in  my  pocket,  that  my 
Captain  gave  me.  Let  me  go  first — I  am  the  man 
— and  cut  the  way ;  though  I  don't  see  why.  Is  n't 
there  a  better  place  ?  " 

"  There  are  many  things  a  lad  of  ten  cannot 
understand,  Dark-Eye,  even  though  he  be  as  manly 
as  you.  Trust  Wahneenah.  An  Indian  never  for- 
gets, and  never  makes  the  haste  that  destroys. 
Watch  me.  Learn  a  lesson  in  woodcraft  that  will 
be  useful  to  you  more  than  once.  Cut  or  broken 
twigs  have  tongues  which  betray.  But  thus — even 
a  bird  could  find  no  trace." 

With  infinite  patience  and  accuracy  of  touch,  the 
woman  parted  the  slender,  interwoven  branches  so 
delicately  that  scarcely  a  leaf  was  bruised,  and  little 
by  little  opened  a  clear  passage  into  a  downward 
sloping  tunnel.  This  tunnel  ran  directly  under  the 
river  bed,  and  was  so  steep  in  places  that  one  might 
easily  have  coasted  over  it. 

"  Why,  how  queer!      It  's  like  the  underground 


98  The  Sun  Maid. 

passage  from  the  Fort  to  the  river,  where  we  chil- 
dren used  to  peep,  but  were  never  allowed  to  enter. 
What  is  it  ?     Why  is  it  ?  " 

"  Let  your  eyes  ask  and  answer  their  own  ques- 
tions. They  are  safer  than  a  tongue,  my  son.  But 
fear  nothing.  Where  Wahneenah  leads  the  way  for 
the  children  whom  the  Great  Spirit  has  sent  her 
they  may  safely  follow." 

Then,  without  further  speech,  she  went  forward 
for  what  seemed  a  long  distance,  through  the  half 
light  of  the  tunnel,  until  it  opened  into  a  wide 
chamber,  across  which  trickled  a  clear  stream  and 
which  was  fanned  by  a  strong  current  of  air. 

The  children  were  silent  from  curiosity,  not  un- 
mixed with  dread  ;  and  their  guide  had  also  become 
very  grave  and  silent.  Memories  were  crowding 
upon  her  soul,  and  banishing  the  present;  but  she 
was  roused  at  length  by  the  wild  clutch  of  the  Sun 
Maid's  arms,  as  something  winged  swept  by  them 
in  the  twilight. 

"Other  Mother!  Other  Mother!  I  — I  don't 
like  it!     Take  Kitty,  quick!  " 

"  Ah!  I  was  dreaming.  My  dead  walked  here 
beside  me,  and  I  forgot.  But  is  the  Sun  Maid  ever 
afraid  ?  I  did  not  think  that.  Well,  it  's  over 
now.  The  gloomy  passage,  the  big,  dark  room — - 
See  ?" 

Suddenly,  at  a  turn  westward  out  of  the  chamber 


An  Island  Retreat.  99 

and  beyond  it,  they  entered  upon  what  might,  in- 
deed, have  been  fairyland.  The  exit  was  another 
passage,  rising  gently  to  a  rock-  and  tree-sheltered 
nook  in  the  heart  of  a  tiny  island.  From  any  out- 
ward point  this  retreat  was  invisible,  and  when  they 
had  emerged  upon  it  the  Indian  woman's  spirits 
rose  again.  She  caught  up  the  Sun  Maid  and  tossed 
her  lightly  upon  a  bending  branch,  that  seemed  to 
have  grown  expressly  for  a  child's  swing. 

My  warrior  trained  that  bough  for  our  son's 
pleasure,  and  from  it  he  rocked  and  danced  as  a 
tiny  papoose.  Now — in  you,  he  lives  again.  Hold, 
Dark-Eye  !     What  are  you  seeking  ?  " 

Oh,  just  nothing!  I  was  poking  around  to 
see " 

"  If  you  could  find  anything  to  eat  ?  The  wild 
blackberries  should  grow  just  yonder,  and,  wait — 
I  '11  look." 

"  For  what  will  you  look.  Other  Mother  ?  Are  n't 
these  the  prettiest  posies  yet  ?  "  and  Kitty  held  up- 
ward a  cluster  of  cardinal  flowers  which  she  had 
pulled  from  a  mass  by  the  water's  edge. 

Ah,  they  are  alive!  They  have  the  heart  of 
fire.  But,  take  care.  It  is  always  wet  where  they 
grow  and  small  feet  slip  easily.  If  you  were  to  soil 
your  pretty  clothes,  old  Katasha  might  be  angry." 

"  I  '11  take  care.     May  I  have  all  I  can  gather  ?  " 

"  All.      Every  one." 


loo  The  Sun  Maid. 

Then  Wahneenah  returned  into  the  cave  and  to  a 
niche  in  its  wall  where,  years  before,  she  had  put  a 
store  of  dried  corn,  some  salt,  and  a  bit  of  tinder. 
The  articles  had  been  stored  in  earthen  jugs,  and  it 
was  just  possible  they  might  be  found  in  good  con- 
dition. If  they  were,  she  would  show  the  man-child 
how  to  catch  a  fish  out  of  the  little  stream  in  the 
cavern,  where  the  dehcate  trout  were  apt  to  hide. 
Then  they  would  make  a  fire  as  they  had  used  in  the 
old  days,  and  she  would  cook  for  these  white  children 
such  a  supper  as  her  own  dear  ones  had  enjoyed. 

"  See,  Caspar,  Dark-Eye.  I  will  fetch  you  a  line 
and  hook.  Sit  quiet  and  draw  out  our  supper  — 
when  it  bites !  ' ' 

"  But  I  have  a  far  better  hook  than  that  in  my 
pocket ;  and  a  line  the  Sauganash  gave  me,  one 
day.  I  am  a  good  fisher,  Wahneenah.  How  many 
fish  do  you  want  for  your  supper  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  good  boaster,  any  way,  pale-face, 
like  all  your  race;  and  I  want  just  as  many  fish 
as  will  satisfy  our  hunger.  If  you  had  your  bow 
here,  you  might  wing  us  a  bird.  Though  that 
would  not  be  wise,  maybe.  Keep  an  eye  to  the 
Sun  Maid,  lest  she  slip  in  the  brook." 

**  This  is  a  funny  place.  It  is  an  island,  is  n't  it  ? 
Like  the  pictures  in  my  geography;  and  there  is  a 
little  creek  through  it,  and  another  in  a  cave,  and — 
I   think  it  is  beautiful.     But  you   're  funny,  too. 


An  Island  Retreat.  loi 

Wahneenah.  You  say  my  Kitty  is  a  '  spirit,'  and 
*  nothing  can  harm  her,'  yet  you  watch  out  for  her 
getting  hurt  closer  than  the  other  mothers  did." 

"  You  see  too  much,  Dark-Eye.  But — well,  she 
is  a  spirit  in  a  girl's  body.  If  you  let  evil  happen 
her  it  will  be  the  worse  for  you.     Hear  me  ?  " 

"  I  would  n't  let  her  get  into  trouble  any  sooner 
than  you  would,  Wahneenah.  I  love  her,  too.  She 
has  n't  any  folks,  and  I  haven't  any,  except  you, 
of  course.     She  belongs  to  me." 

"Oh!  she  does  ?  Well.  Enough.  We  all  be- 
long  to  each  other.     We  have  made  the  bond." 

When  the  woman  returned  from  her  search  in  the 
cavern  her  face  was  very  grave.  Yet  it  should  have 
been  delighted,  for  she  had  found  not  only  the 
corn  and  the  other  things  she  remembered,  but  a 
goodly  store  of  articles,  quite  too  fresh  and  modern 
to  have  remained  there  since  she  last  visited  the 
spot.  There  were  dried  beans,  salted  beef,  cakes 
of  sugar  from  her  old  maple  trees  —  she  knew  her 
own  mark  upon  them ;  and,  besides  these,  were 
flour  and  tea  in  packages,  such  as  had  been  dis- 
tributed from  Fort  Dearborn  among  as  many  In- 
dians as  were  entitled  to  receive  them.  It  was  both 
puzzling  and  disappointing  to  find  her  retreat  dis- 
covered and  appropriated  by  somebody  else. 

"  It  must  be  that  Shut-Hand  has,  in  some  way, 
found  this  cavern  out.      All  the  other  people  would 


I02  The  Sun  Maid. 

have  eaten  and  enjoyed  their  good  things,  and  not 
stored  them  up,  like  this.  But  he  is  crafty  and 
secretive,  and  his  name  is  his  character." 

Had  Wahneenah  hunted  further  she  would  have 
found,  in  addition  to  the  provisions,  a  considerable 
quantity  of  broadcloth,  calico,  and  paint ;  which 
articles,  also,  had  been  among  those  recently  secured 
from  the  garrison.  But  she  neither  examined  very 
closely  nor  touched  anything  except  that  for  which 
she  had  come  to  the  recess;  and  she  even  forced 
herself  to  put  the  matter  out  of  mind,  for  the  time 
being. 

"  I  have  brought  my  children  here  to  make  a 
holiday  for  them.  I  will  not,  therefore,  darken  it 
by  my  forebodings.  The  young  live  only  in  the 
present  or  the  future.  I,  too,  will  again  become 
young.     I  will  forget  all  that  is  past." 

From  that  wonderful  pocket  of  his,  Caspar  took 
a  decent  hook  and  line,  and  easily  proved  his  skill 
among  fish  that  were  too  seldom  disturbed  to  have 
learned  any  fear;  while  Wahneenah  made  a  tiny  fire 
of  dried  twigs,  in  the  mouth  of  the  cavern,  and 
boiled  her  prepared  corn,  that  she  had  broken  and 
ground  between  two  stones,  into  a  sort  of  mush. 
With  Caspar's  fish,  broiled  upon  the  live  coals,  the 
pudding  sweetened  by  a  bit  of  honey  from  a  close 
sealed  crock,  and  a  draught  of  water  from  the  under- 
ground stream,  the  trio  made  a  fine  supper;   and 


An  Island  Retreat.  103 

afterward,  when  she  had  carefully  cleared  away  the 
debris,  Wahneenah  rekindled  the  fire,  and,  sitting 
beside  it,  took  the  Sun  Maid  on  her  knee  and  drew 
the  motherless  Dark-Eye  within  the  shelter  of  her 
arm. 

Then  she  told  them  tales  and  legends  of  the  wide 
prairies  and  distant  mountains;  and  her  own  man- 
ner gave  them  thrilling  interest,  because  she  be- 
lieved in  them  quite  as  sincerely  as  did  her  small, 
wide-eyed  listeners. 

"  Tell  it  once  more,  Other  Mother.  That  beau'ful 
one  'bout  the  little  papoose  that  had  n't  any  shoes, 
and  the  flowers  growed  her  some.  Just  like  mine  "  ; 
holding  up  her  own  tiny  moccasined  feet,  and  rub- 
bing them  together  in  the  comfortable  heat. 

"  Once  upon  a  time  a  little  girl  papoose  was  lost. 
The  enemies  of  her  people  had  come  to  her  father's 
village,  and  had  scattered  all  her  tribe.  There  was 
not  one  of  them  left  alive  except  the  Httle  maid." 

"  I  guess  that  's  just  like  Kitty,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  No.  No,  it  is  not,"  replied  the  story-teller, 
quickly.  For  she  had  felt  a  shiver  run  through 
Caspar's  body,  and  pressed  it  close  in  warm  protec- 
tion. "  No.  It  is  not  like  either  of  you.  For  to 
you  is  Wahneenah,  the  Mother;  the  sister  of  a  chief 
who  lives  and  is  powerful.  But  this  was  away  in 
the  long  past,  before  even  I  was  born.  So  the  girl 
papoose  found  herself  wandering  on  the  prairie,  and 


I04  The  Sun  Maid. 

it  was  the  time  of  frost.  The  ground  was  frozen 
beneath  the  grasses,  which  were  stiff  and  rough 
and  cut  the  tender  feet  that  a  mother's  hand  had 
hitherto  carried  in  her  own  palm." 

"  Show  me  how,  Mother  Wahneenah." 

"  Just  this  way  Sweetheart,"  clasping  the  tiny 
moccasins  in  a  loving  caress. 

Tell  some  more.     I  guess  the  fire  is  going  to 
make  Kitty  sleepy,  by  and  by." 

"  Sleep,  then,  if  you  will,  Girl-Child." 

"  And  then  ?" 

"  Then,  when  the  little  one  was  very  cold  and 
tired  and  lonely  she  remembered  something:  it  was 
that  she  had  seen  her  own  mother  lift  her  two  hands 
to  the  sky  and  ask  the  Great  Spirit  for  all  she  might 
need." 

"  He  always  hears,  does  n't  He  ? " 

"  He  hears  and  answers.  But  sometimes  the  an- 
swers are  what  He  sees  is  best,  not  what  we  want." 

"  Don't  sigh  that  way.  Other  Mother  ?  S'posin' 
your  little  boy  did  go  away.  Have  n't  you  got 
Gaspar  and  Kitty  ?  " 

"  Yes,  little  one." 

"  Go  on,  then.  About  the  little  maid — just  like 
me." 

"  So  she  put  her  own  two  tiny  hands  up  toward 
the  sky  and  asked  the  Great  Spirit  to  put  soft 
shoes  on  her  tired  little  feet." 


An  Island  Retreat.  105 

"  And  He  did,  did  n't  He  ?" 

"  Surely.  First  the  pain  eased  and  that  made 
her  look  down.  And  there  she  saw  a  pair  of  the 
softest  moccasins  that  ever  were  made.  They  were 
of  pale  pink  and  yellow,  and  all  dotted  with  dark 
little  bead-spots;  and  they  fitted  as  easily  as  her 
own  dainty  skin.  Then  the  girl  papoose  was  grate- 
ful, and  she  begged  the  Great  Spirit  that  He  would 
make  many  and  many  another  pair  of  just  such 
comfortable  shoes  for  every  other  little  barefoot 
maid  in  all  the  world.  That  not  one  single  child 
should  ever  suffer  what  the  girl  papoose  had  suf- 
fered." 

"  Did  He  ?  "  asked  Caspar,  as  interested  as  Kitty. 

"  Yes,  Surely.  The  prayer  of  the  unselfish  and 
innocent  is  always  granted.  He  sent  a  voice  out  of 
the  sky  and  bade  the  child  look  all  about  her.  So 
she  did,  and  the  whole  wide  prairie  was  a-bloom 
with  more  pink  and  yellow  '  shoes  '  than  all  the 
children  in  all  the  earth  could  ever  wear.  They 
were  growing  right  out  of  the  hard  ground,  reaching 
up  to  be  plucked  and  worn.  So  she  cried  out  aloud 
in  her  gratitude:  '  Oh,  the  moccasin  flower!  the 
moccasin  flower!  '  and  ever  since  then  this  shoe- 
like blossom  has  been  beloved  of  all  the  children  in 
the  world.  But,  because  the  heat  burns  as  well  as 
the  cold  pinches,  it  blooms  nowadays  at  all  times 
and  seasons  of  the  year.      A  few  flowers  here,  a  few 


io6  The  Sun  Maid. 

there;  but  quite  enough  for  any  child  to  find — who 
has  the  right  spirit." 

"  Kitty  must  have  had  the  spirit,  must  n't  she, 
Other  Mother  ?  That  day  when  her  feets  were  so 
tired  and  the  good  Feather-man  found  her.  'Cause 
she  had  lots  and  lots  of  them ;  only  she  went  to 
sleep  and  they  all  solemned  down.     And " 

Gaspar  started  suddenly  and  held  up  a  warning 
hand.  His  quick  ear  had  caught  the  sound  of  ap- 
proaching feet,  crushing  boldly  through  the  cavern, 
like  the  tread  of  one  who  knows  his  way  well  and  is 
coming  to  his  own. 

Wahneenah  had  also  heard,  though  she  had  con- 
tinued her  story,  making  no  sign  that  she  was  in- 
wardly disturbed.  But  she  now  paused  and  listened 
whether  this  footfall  were  one  she  knew,  either  of 
friend  or  foe.  Then  a  bush  cracked  behind  them, 
and  Caspar's  heart  stood  still,  as  the  tall  form  of  an 
Indian  warrior  pushed  past  them  into  the  firelight. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AT    MUCK-OTEY-POKEE. 

WAHNEENAH  did  not  lift  her  eyes.  For  the 
moment  an  unaccustomed  fear  held  her 
spellbound,  and  it  was  the  Sun  Maid's  happy  cry 
which  roused  her  at  length,  and  restored  them  all 
to  composure. 

"  Black  Partridge!  My  own  dear  Feather-man  !  " 
With  a  spring,  the  child  threw  herself  upon  the 
Indian's  breast  and  clasped  his  neck  with  her  trust- 
ful arms.  It  was,  perhaps,  this  confidence  of  hers 
in  the  good-will  of  all  her  friends  that  made  them 
in  return  hold  her  so  dear.  Certain  it  was  that  the 
chief's  face  now  assumed  that  expression  of  gentle- 
ness which  was  the  attribute  small  Kitty  ascribed  to 
him,  but  which  among  his  older  acquaintances  was 
not  considered  a  leading  trait  of  his  character.  Just 
he  always  was,  but  rather  severe  than  gentle;  and 
Wahneenah  marked,  with  some  surprise,  the  caress- 
ing touch  he  laid  upon  the  Sun  Maid's  floating  hair 
as  he  quietly  set  her  down  and  himself  dropped 
upon  a  ledge  to  rest. 

"  You    are    welcome,   my    brother.     Though,    at 
107 


io8  The  Sun  Maid. 

first,  I  feared  it  was  some  alien  who  had  discovered 
our  cave." 

"  It  is  not  the  habit  of  the  Happy  to  fear.  She 
who  forebodes  danger  where  no  danger  is  but  paves 
the  way  to  her  own  destruction." 

Wahneenah  glanced  at  her  brother  sharply. 

"  It  is  the  Truth-Teller  himself  who  has  put  fore- 
boding into  my  soul.  He — and  the  new-born  love 
which  the  Sun  Maid  has  brought." 

The  face  of  Black  Partridge  fell  again  into  that 
dignified  gravity  which  was  its  habitual  expression 
and  he  sat  for  a  long  time  with  the  "  dream-look" 
in  his  eyes,  gazing  straightforward  into  the  embers 
of  their  little  fire. 

"  Is  you  hungry.  Feather-man  ?  We  did  have 
such  a  beau'ful  supper.  Nice  Other  Mother  can 
cook  fishes  and  cakes  and — things.  Shall  she  cook 
you  some  fish,  Black  Partridge  ? " 

"  Will  my  chief  eat  the  food  I  prepare  for  him  ?" 
asked  Wahneenah,  seconding  the  child's  invitation. 

"  With  pleasure.  For  one  hour  he  will  let  the 
cares  of  his  life  slip  from  him.  He  will  have  this  night 
of  peace,  and  while  the  meal  is  getting  he  will  sleep." 

With  a  sigh  of  relief  the  tall  Indian  moved  a  few 
steps  back  into  the  cave  and  stretched  himself  at 
length  upon  the  ground.  His  eyes  closed,  and  be- 
fore Caspar  had  made  ready  his  line  to  catch  the 
fresh  trout  he  had  sunk  into  a  profound  slumber. 


At  Muck-otey-pokee.  109 

Wahneenah  put  her  finger  to  her  lip  to  signify 
silence,  but  she  need  not  have  done  so.  Caspar 
had  long  ago  learned  the  red  man's  noiseless  ways, 
and  the  Sun  Maid  immediately  placed  herself  beside 
the  prostrate  chief,  and  clasping  his  hand  that  lay 
on  his  breast  snuggled  her  cheek  against  it,  and  fol- 
lowed his  example. 

The  Black  Partridge,  like  most  of  his  race,  could 
sleep  anywhere,  at  any  time,  and  for  as  long  as  he 
chose.  He  had  elected  to  wake  at  the  end  of  a 
half-hour,  and  he  did  so  on  the  moment.  Sitting 
up,  he  gently  placed  the  still  slumbering  Sun  Maid 
upon  the  ground  and  moved  forward  to  the  fire. 
While  he  ate  the  food  she  had  provided  for  him, 
Wahneenah  continued  standing  near,  but  a  little 
behind  him  ;  ready  to  anticipate  his  needs,  and  with 
a  humility  of  demeanor  which  she  showed  toward 
no  other  person. 

Caspar  watched  the  pair,  wondering  if  they  could 
really  be  of  the  same  race  which  had  destroyed  his 
childhood's  home,  and  now  again  that  second  home 
of  his  adoption  —  the  Fort.  He  liked,  and  was  im- 
pelled to  trust  them  both,  and  was  already  learning 
to  love  his  foster-mother.  But  when  they  began  to 
converse  in  their  own  dialect,  and  with  occasional 
glances  toward  himself  and  the  sleeping  Kitty,  the 
native  caution  of  his  mind  arose,  and  made  him 
miserable.      He  remembered  a  byword  of  the  Fort: 


no  The  Sun  Maid. 

The  only  safe  Indian  is  a  dead  one  ";  and  with  a 
sudden  sense  of  danger  leaped  to  his  feet  and  ran  to 
bend  above  the  unconscious  maid. 

"  If  you  harm  her,  I  '11  —  I  '11  —  kill  you!"  he 
shouted  fiercely. 

Wahneenah  looked  amazed,  but  the  Black  Part- 
ridge instantly  comprehended  the  working  of  the 
boy's  thoughts,  and  a  smile  of  satisfaction  faintly 
illumined  his  sombre  features. 

"It  is  well.  Let  every  brave  defend  his  own. 
The  Dark-Eye  is  no  coward.  His  years  are  few, 
but  he  has  the  heart  of  a  warrior  and  a  chief.  He 
must  begin,  at  once,  to  learn  the  speech  of  his  new 
tribe.  He  that  knows  has  doubled  the  strength  of 
his  arm.  Draw  near.  There  is  good  and  not  evil 
in  the  souls  of  the  chief  and  his  sister.  We  are 
Truth-Tellers.  We  cannot  lie.  We  have  pledged 
our  faith  to  the  Dark-Eye  and  the  Sun  Maid — 
though  she  needs  it  not." 

The  sincerity  and  admiration  in  the  Indian's  eyes 
compelled  the  lad's  obedience;  and  when,  as  he 
stepped  into  the  firelight,  the  chief  indicated  that 
he  should  sit  beside  himself,  and  also  nodded  to 
Wahneenah  to  take  her  own  place  opposite,  his 
heart  swelled  with  pride  and  ambition.  So  had  the 
white  Captain  trusted  and  counselled  with  him. 
He  had  been  faithful  through  all  that  dreadful  day 
of  massacre,  and  he  had  felt  the  man's  spirit  within 


At  Muck-otey-pokee.  iii 

his  child-body.  Now  again,  a  commander  of  others, 
the  wise  leader  of  a  different  people,  was  honoring 
him  with  a  share  in  his  council.  There  must  be 
good  in  him,  and  some  sort  of  wisdom — even  though 
so  young — else  they  had  paid  him  no  heed.  His 
cheek  flushed,  his  breast  heaved,  and  his  beautiful 
eyes  shone  with  the  exultation  that  thrilled  him. 

"  Let  the  chief  pardon  the  child — which  I  was, 
but  a  moment  ago.  I  am  become  a  man.  I  will 
do  a  man's  task,  now  and  forever.  If  I  suspected 
evil  where  there  was  none,  is  it  a  wonder  ?  I  have 
told  Wahneenah,  the  Happy,  the  story  of  my  life. 
The  Black  Partridge  knew  it  already." 

Quite  unconsciously,  Caspar  dropped  into  the 
Indian  manner  of  speech,  and  he  could  not  have 
done  a  better  thing  for  himself  had  he  pondered  the 
matter  for  long.  Black  Partridge  nodded  approv- 
ingly, and  remarked : 

"  Another  Sauganash  is  here!  Well,  while  the 
Sun  Maid  sleeps,  let  us  consider  the  future.  The 
evil  days  are  near." 

"  What  is  the  evil  that  my  brother,  the  chief,  be- 
holds with  his  inner  vision?  "  questioned  the  woman. 

"  War  and  bloodshed.  Still  more  of  war,  still 
more  of  death.  In  the  end  will  our  wigwams  lie 
flat  on  the  earth  as  fallen  leaves,  while  the  remnant 
of  my  people  moves  onward,  forever  onward  toward 
the  setting  sun." 


112  The  Sun  Maid. 

Wahneenah  kept  a  respectful  silence,  but  in  her 
heart  she  resented  the  dire  forebodings  of  her  chief. 
At  last,  when  her  brooding  thought  forced  utter- 
ance, she  inquired : 

"  Can  not  the  wisdom  of  the  Black  Partridge 
hinder  these  days  of  calamity  ?  If  the  great  Gomo, 
and  Winnemeg,  and  those  white  braves  who  have 
lived  among  us,  as  the  Sauganash,  take  counsel  to- 
gether, and  compel  their  tribes  to  keep  the  peace, 
and  to  copy  of  the  pale-faces  the  arts  which  have 
made  them  so  powerful — will  not  this  avert  the 
evil  ?  Why  may  there  not  in  some  time  and  place, 
a  mighty  grave  be  digged  in  which  may  be  buried 
all  the  guns  that  kill  and  the  knives  that  scalp,  with 
the  arrows  which  fly  more  swiftly  than  a  bird  ? 
Over  all  may  there  not  be  emptied  the  casks  and 
bottles  of  the  fearful  firewater,  that,  passing  through 
the  lips  of  a  warrior,  changes  him  to  a  beast  ?  Then 
the  red  man  and  his  pale  brother  may  clasp  hands 
together  and  abide,  each  upon  the  earth,  where  the 
Great  Spirit  placed  him." 

"  It  is  a  dream.  Dreams  vanish.  Even  as  now 
the  night  speeds,  and  we  are  far  from  home.  It 
avails  us  not  to  think  of  what  might — but  never  will 
— be.  Occasional  friendships  bridge  the  feud  be- 
tween our  alien  races,  but  the  feud  remains.  It  is 
eternal.  Endless  as  the  years  which  will  witness 
the    gradual    extinction    of    the    weaker,    because 


At  Muck-otey-pokee.  113 

smaller,  race.  Let  us  dream  no  more.  Has  Wah- 
neenah,  my  sister,  observed  how  the  store  she  left 
in  the  old  cave  has  grown  ?  How  the  few  sealed 
jars  have  become  many,  and  how  there  are  heaps  of 
the  good  gifts  which  the  Great  Father  sent  to  his 
white  children  at  the  Fort  for  the  red  children's 
use  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  thought  it  was  the  miser,  Shut-Hand, 
who  had  placed  them  here  in  our  cave." 

"  It  was  I,  the  Black  Partridge." 

"  For  what  purpose,  my  brother  ?  " 

"  Against  the  needs  of  the  time  I  have  foretold. 
It  is  a  sanctuary.  Here  may  Wahneenah,  and  the 
young  son  and  daughter  which  have  been  given  her, 
find  shelter  and  sustenance." 

Something  of  her  old  tribal  exultation  seized  the 
woman,  who  was  a  great  chief's  daughter.  Rising 
to  her  fullest  height,  her  fine  head  thrown  slightly 
back,  she  demanded,  indignantly: 

"  Is  the  heart  of  my  brother  become  like  that  of 
the  papoose  upon  its  mother's  shoulders  ?  Was  it 
not  to  the  red  men  that  the  victory  came,  but  so 
brief  time  past  ?  What  were  all  the  pale-faces,  in 
their  gaudy  costumes,  with  their  music  and  their 
guns  and  their  childish  way  of  battle  ?  The  arrows 
of  our  people  mowed  them  like  the  grass  upon  the 
prairie  when  a  herd  of  wild  horses  feeds  upon  it. 
But  yesterday  they  marched  in  pride  and  insolence, 


1 14  The  Sun  Maid. 

scorning  us.  To-day,  they  are  carrion  for  the  crows 
overhead,  or  they  flee  for  safety  like  the  cowards 
they  were  born.  The  Black  Partridge  has  tarried 
too  long  among  such  as  these.  He  has  become 
their  blood  brother." 

The  taunt  was  the  fiercest  she  could  give,  and  she 
gave  it  from  a  full  heart.  In  ordinary  so  gentle  and 
peace-loving  she  had  been  roused,  for  a  moment,  to 
a  pitch  of  emotion  which  astonished  even  herself. 
Yet  when,  as  if  she  had  been  a  fractious  child,  the 
chief  motioned  her  to  again  become  seated,  she 
obeyed  him  at  once.  She  had  set  her  thoughts 
free,  indeed ;  but  she  would  never  presume  to  fight 
against  the  conditions  which  surrounded  her;  and 
obedience  to  tribal  authority  was  inborn. 

"  The  Snake-Who-Leaps  will  be  at  the  tepee  of 
my  sister  each  day  when  the  sun  climbs  to  the  point 
overhead.  The  three  horses  will  be  always  ready. 
The  children  who  do  not  know,  and  Wahneenah 
who  has,  maybe,  forgotten  how  to  ride,  will  practise 
as  he  instructs,  until  there  will  be  no  horse  they 
cannot  master,  or  no  spot  to  which  a  horse  may  be 
guided  that  they  do  not  know.  But  here  first. 
That  is  why  the  store  of  food  and  cloths.  At  the 
first  assault  upon  our  Muck-otey-pokee,  mount  and 
ride.  Ride  as  no  squaw  nor  papoose  ever  rode  be- 
fore. Here  the  Black  Partridge  will  seek  them,  and 
here,  if  the  Great  Spirit  wills,  they  may  be   safe. 


At  Muck-otey-pokee.  115 

Enough.  Let  the  Dark-Eye  go  forward  and  make 
the  horses  ready." 

The  Black  Partridge  rose  as  he  spoke,  and  striding 
toward  the  sleeping  Sun  Maid,  took  her  in  his  arms 
and  left  the  spot.  Caspar,  already  darting  onward 
toward  the  beloved  Tempest,  paused,  for  an  instant, 
and  regarded  his  chief  anxiously.  But  when  he  saw 
that  the  little  girl  had  not  awakened,  he  sped  forward 
again,  and  by  the  time  Wahneenah  had  disposed  of 
the  remnants  of  the  chief's  supper  and  followed,  he 
had  loosed  the  animals  and  led  them  to  the  nearest 
point  for  mounting. 

Still  holding  the  Sun  Maid  motionless  upon  his 
breast,  the  Black  Partridge  leaped  to  the  back  of  his 
own  magnificent  stallion,  which  whinnied  in  affec- 
tionate welcome  of  his  approach.  Then  he  ordered 
Caspar : 

"Ride  behind  me  on  Tempest,  and  lead  the  Snow- 
bird.    Wahneenah  will  follow  all  on  Chestnut." 

By  the  time  they  were  out  upon  the  prairie  the 
wind  had  risen  and  the  sky  was  heavily  clouded. 
It  was  so  dark  that  the  boy  could  not  see  beyond 
the  head  of  his  own  horse,  but  he  could  hear  the 
steady,  grass-softened  footfall  of  the  stallion  as,  with 
unerring  directness,  the  Indian  chieftain  led  the  way 
homeward  to  the  village. 

When  they  rode  into  it,  all  Muck-otey-pokee 
seemed  asleep ;  but  the  perennially  young,  though 


1 1 6  The  Sun  Maid. 

still  venerable,  Snake-Who-Leaps,  had  been  prone 
before  Wahneenah's  wigwam,  and  silently  rose  from 
the  ground  as  they  drew  rein  beside  him. 

"  Ah,  the  Sleepless!  The  Wise  Man.  Did  he 
think  his  pupils  had  ridden  away  to  their  own  de- 
struction ?  "  asked  the  squaw,  as  she  stepped  down 
from  her  saddle. 

"  No  harm  can  happen  the  household  of  my  chief 
save  what  the  Great  Spirit  wills." 

"  And  you  think  He  will  not  waste  time  with 
three  wild  runaways  ?  " 

"  Wahneenah,  the  Happy,  is  in  good  spirit  her- 
self. I  remembered  her  not,  save  as  the  message 
may  concern.  That  is  for  the  ear  of  my  friend  and 
the  father  of  his  tribe,  the  Black  Partridge." 

Handing  the  Sun  Maid  into  his  sister's  embrace, 
he  for  whom  the  message  waited  slipped  the  bridles 
of  two  horses  over  his  arm  while  the  Snake-Who- 
Leaps  led  the  others.  Whatever  they  had  to  say 
was  not  begun  then  nor  there,  and  if  Wahneenah 
had  any  curiosity  in  the  matter  it  was  not  to  be 
gratified.  Yet  she  stood,  for  a  moment,  listening 
to  the  receding  sounds  as  the  darkness  enveloped 
the  departing  group ;  and  in  her  heart  was  born  a 
fresh  anxiety  because  of  the  little  one  she  carried, 
and  for  the  orphan  lad  who  followed  so  closely  at 
her  skirts  as  she  lifted  her  tent  curtain  and  entered 
their  home. 


At  Muck-otey-pokee.  117 

But  nothing  occurred  to  suggest  that  the  message 
of  the  Snake-Who-Leaps  had  been  one  of  warning. 
He  was  at  his  post  of  teacher  exactly  on  the  hour 
appointed  on  the  following  day,  and  this  time  all 
his  pupils  conducted  themselves  with  a  grave  pro- 
priety that  greatly  pleased  him ;  and  thereafter,  for 
many  days,  and  even  weeks,  while  the  dry  season 
lasted,  did  he  instruct  and  they  perform  the  marvel- 
lous feats  of  horsemanship  which  have  made  the  red 
man  famous  the  world  over. 

"  But,"  said  Osceolo  one  day,  tauntingly:  "  you 
were  the  pale-face  who  would  learn  nothing  from  an 
Indian!  " 

"  Because  a  person  is  a  fool  once,  need  he  remain 
so  always  ?  "  answered  Gaspar,  hotly. 

"  You  were  a  fool  then  ?  I  thought  so.  Once  a 
fool  always  one," 

"  Only  an  Indian  believes  that." 

"  How  ?     You  taunt  me  ?     Fight,  then  !  " 

Gaspar  Keith  was  a  curious  mixture  of  courage 
and  timidity.  His  courage  came  by  nature,  and  his 
timidity  was  the  result  of  the  terrible  scenes  through 
which  he  had  passed  now  twice,  young  though  he 
was.  The  impress  of  this  terror  would  remain  with 
him  forever ;  and  if  ever  he  became  a  hero  in  fact, 
it  would  be  because  of  his  will  and  not  his  inclina- 
tion. At  present  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  in- 
spired  him ;    and    though   he   eyed   the   larger   boy 


ii8  The  Sun  Maid. 

scornfully,  and  felt  that  he  could  easily  whip  the 
bully,  if  he  chose,  he  now  turned  his  back  upon  him 
and  walked  away  haughtily. 

But  Osceolo's  sneer  followed  him : 

"  The  One-Who-Is-Afraid-Of-His-Shadow!  Gas- 
par — Coward !  " 

No  boy  could  patiently  endure  this  insult,  even 
though  it  came  from  one  much  larger  and  stronger 
than  himself,  Caspar's  jacket  was  off  and  his  arms 
bared  on  the  instant;  but  before  he  could  fling  him- 
self against  his  enemy  a  strong  hand  was  laid  upon 
his  own  shoulder,  and  he  was  tossed  aside  as  lightly 
as  a  leaf. 

•"  Hold!  Let  there  be  none  of  this.  It  is  a  time 
for  peace  in  our  village.  Wait  in  patience.  The 
hour  is  coming,  is  almost  here,  when  both  the  pale- 
face and  the  son  of  my  tribe  will  have  need  of  all 
their  prowess.  Go,  Polish  your  arrows  and  point 
their  heads,  but  let  there  be  none  of  this." 

It  was  the  great  chief  himself,  who  had  separated 
the  combatants,  and  as  he  stalked  majestically  on- 
ward he  left  behind  him  two  greatly  astonished  and 
ashamed  young  warriors.  In  common,  no  grown 
brave  bothered  himself  over  the  petty  squabbles  of 
striplings;  unless,  indeed,  it  might  be  to  incite  them 
to  further  conflicts.  For  the  Black  Partridge  to  in- 
terfere now  was  significant  of  something  far  deeper 
than  a  boyish  fight. 


At  Muck-otey-pokee.  119 

Caspar  put  on  his  coat  and  walked  thoughtfully 
home  to  Wahneenah  and  Kitty,  while  Osceolo  slunk 
away  to  his  own  haunts,  to  lie  at  length  upon  the 
grass  and  plot  with  a  cunning  worthy  of  better  ends 
the  various  devices  by  which  he  could  torment  the 
young  white  lad  of  whom  he  was  so  jealous. 

Wahneenah  heard  the  tale  with  a  gravity  that 
impressed  the  chief's  action  more  strongly  than  be- 
fore upon  the  lad's  mind;  while  Kitty  took  it  upon 
herself  to  lecture  him  with  all  severity  about  the 
dreadful  "  naughtiness  of  striking  that  poor,  dear 
Ossy  boy." 

"  Hmm,  Sunny  Maid  !  you  need  n't  waste  pity  on 
him.      He  does  n't  deserve  it." 

"  Maybe  not,  Dark-Eye.  Maybe  not.  But  heed 
you  the  warning.  The  dwellers  in  one  village  should 
keep  that  village  quiet,"  interrupted  Wahneenah. 

"  Yes,  but  they  don't.  There  are  almost  as  many 
sorts  of  Indians  here  as  there  are  people.  Some  of 
them  are  horrible.  I  see  them  often  watching  Kitty 
and  me  as  if  they  would  like  to  scalp  us.  It 's  been 
worse  within  a  little  while.  It  grows  worse  all  the 
time." 

"  All  the  more  reason  why  you  should  be  wise 
and  careful.  But  it  is  dark  in  the  tepee,  and  that  's 
a  sign  the  Dust  Chief  is  almost  ready  to  shut  up 
your  eyes.  Run,  Caspar,  son,  and  Girl-Child.  See 
which  will  sleep  the  first.     And   to  the   one  who 


I20  The  Sun  Maid. 

does,    the   bigger   lump  of  my  best  sugar  in  the 
morning." 

They  ran,  as  she  suggested,  but  there  was  to  be 
no  further  haste  till  Kitty  had  made  Gaspar  kneel 
beside  her  and  repeat  with  her  the  "  Now  I  lay 
me "  little  prayer,  which  her  Fort  mothers  had 
taught  her.  The  short,  simple  prayer,  beloved  of 
childhood  the  world  over,  that  has  carried  many  a 
white  soul  upward  to  its  Father.  Even  to  Wah- 
neenah,  though  her  mission  training  had  been  of 
another  creed,  the  childish  petition  was  full  of 
sacredness  and  beauty;  and  as  she  stood  near  them, 
she  bowed  her  head  humbly  and  echoed  it  with  all 
her  heart. 

Each  was  in  bed  soon  after,  and  each  with  a  lump 
of  the  toothsome  dainty  they  loved. 

For  Gaspar  must  have  it  because  he  was  first; 
and  my  Girl-Child  because  she  was  the  last.  That 
equals  everything." 

They  thought  it  did,  delightfully :  if  they  stayed 
awake  long  enough  to  think  at  all.  But  when  they 
were  both  asleep,  and  the  sound  of  their  soft  breath- 
ing echoed  through  the  dusky  tepee,  Wahneenah 
took  her  seat  at  its  entrance,  and  began  to  sing 
low  and  softly,  with  a  sweetness  of  voice  which  ren- 
dered even  their  rudeness  musical,  the  love  songs  of 
her  girlhood. 

As  she  sang  and  gazed  upward  through  the  trees 


At  Muck-otey-pokee.  121 

into  the  starlit  sky,  an  infinite  peace  stole  over  her. 
Indeed,  the  joy  that  possessed  her  seemed  almost 
startling  to  herself.  All  that  was  sad  in  her  mem- 
ories dropped  from  them,  and  left  but  their  happi- 
ness; while  the  present  closed  about  her  as  a  delight 
that  nothing  could  disturb.  Her  love  for  the  Sun 
Maid  had  become  almost  a  passion  with  her,  and 
for  her  Dark-Eye  there  was  ever  an  increasing  and 
comprehending  affection. 

She  remained  so  long,  dreaming,  remembering, 
and  planning,  that  the  first  grayness  of  the  dawn 
came  before  she  could  go  within  and  take  her  own 
bit  of  sleep.  But  Muck-otey-pokee  was  always 
early  astir;  and  if  for  no  other  reason,  because  the 
dogs  which  thronged  the  settlement  would  allow  no 
quiet  after  daybreak.  That  morning  they  were  un- 
usually restless. 

Cried  Wahneenah,  rising  suddenly,  and  now  feel- 
ing somewhat  the  effects  of  her  late  sitting: 

"  Can  it  be  sun-up  already  ?  The  beasts  are  wild 
this  morning.  I  have  never  heard  them  so  deafen- 
ing." 

Nor  had  anybody  else.  There  was  no  cessation 
in  their  barking. 

It 's  a  regular  '  bedlam,'  is  n't  it  ?  That  's  what 
the  Fort  mothers  used  to  say  when  there  was  target 
practice,  and  the  children  cheered  the  shooters. 
What  makes  them  bark  so  ?  "  answered  Caspar. 


122  The  Sun  Maid. 

Wahneenah  shivered,  and  suggested: 

**  Run  out  and  play.  Eh  ?  What  's  that  ?  The 
Snake-Who-Leaps  ?  So  early,  and  with  the  horses, 
too  ?  But  mind  him  not.  Take  the  Sun  Maid  out- 
of-doors,  but  keep  close  to  the  green  before  the 
lodge.  Where  I  can  see  you  now  and  then,  while 
I  get  breakfast  ready." 

Everybody  was  up;  and  more  than  one  com- 
mented upon  the  strangeness  of  the  three  horses 
being  brought  to  the  tepee  so  early. 

The  warning  message  which  had  come  from  the 
south,  and  had  been  delivered  to  his  chief  by  the 
Snake-Who-Leaps,  on  that  dark  night  some  weeks 
before,  was  now  to  be  verified.  "  What  the  red- 
men  have  done  to  the  pale-faces,  the  pale-faces  will 
now  do  to  them.      Retaliation  and  revenge !  " 

Yet  not  one  was  quite  prepared  for  the  events 
which  followed.  Followed  even  so  swiftly  that  the 
women  left  their  porridge  cooking  in  their  kettles 
and  their  cows  half-milked ;  while  the  men  of  the 
village  promptly  seized  the  nearest  weapon,  and 
rushed  to  the  hopeless  defence. 

The  rude  sound  that  had  startled  every  dweller  in 
that  pretty  settlement  was  the  report  of  a  gun. 
Then  came  a  galloping  troop  of  cavalry  —  more 
firing — incessant,  indiscriminate  ! 

There  was  a  babel  of  shrieks  as  the  women  and 
little  ones  fell  where  they  stood,    in  the  midst  of 


At  Muck-otey-pokee.  123 

their  work  or  play.  There  were  the  blood-curdling 
war-whoops  of  the  savages,  answering  the  random 
shots.  Above  and  through  all,  one  cry  rang  clear  to 
Wahneenah's  consciousness. 

"  The  horses!  The  horses!  Ride — ride — ride — 
as  I  have  taught  you  !     For  your  lives — Ride  !  " 

It  was  but  an  instant.  Wahneenah  and  her  chil- 
dren were  amount  and  afield.  But  as,  in  an  anguish 
of  fear  for  his  friends,  and  no  thought  of  himself, 
once  more  the  Snake-Who-Leaps  shouted  his  warn- 
ing, the  whistle  of  a  death-dealing  bullet  came  to 
him  where  he  watched,  and  struck  him  down  across 
the  threshold  of  Wahneenah's  happy  home. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE   CAVE   OF   REFUGE. 

THREE  abreast,  the  chestnut  in  the  middle,  the 
fugitives  from  the  doomed  village  of  Muck- 
otey-pokee  rode  like  the  wind  in  a  straight,  un- 
swerving line  across  the  prairie.  After  they  had 
left  a  considerable  distance  behind  them,  Wahnee- 
nah  turned  her  stern  face  backward,  and  scanned  the 
route  over  which  they  had  passed ;  and  when  her 
keen  vision  detected  something  like  a  group  of 
glistening  bayonets  —  to  ordinary  sight  no  larger 
than  a  point  against  the  horizon  —  she  abruptly 
doubled  on  her  course,  then  made  a  sharp  detour 
westward.  She  had  early  dropped  her  own  bridle, 
and  had  since  guided  her  horse  by  her  low  spoken 
commands,  while  in  either  hand  she  clutched  a  bit- 
ring  of  the  Snowbird  and  Tempest.  Her  change  of 
direction  must  have  brought  her  all  the  more  plainly 
into  view  of  the  pursuing  soldiers,  but  in  a  few 
moments  she  had  gained  the  shelter  of  a  group  of 
trees. 

These  sprang,  apparently,  out  of  the  midst  of  the 
plain,  but  she  knew  that  they  really  concealed  the 
124 


The  Cave  of  Refuge.  125 

entrance  to  the  underground  pathway  to  the  cave; 
and  once  within  their  shelter,  she  paused  to  breathe 
and  gaze  upon  the  startled  faces  of  her  children. 

That  of  the  Sun  Maid  was  pale,  indeed,  with  the 
excitement  of  this  mad  ride,  but  showed  no  fear; 
while  Caspar's,  alas!  wore  an  expression  of  abject 
terror.  His  eyes  stared  wildly,  his  teeth  were  set, 
his  nostrils  drawn  and  pinched.  He  was,  his  foster- 
mother  saw,  already  on  the  verge  of  a  collapse. 

She  leaped  from  her  horse,  and  caught  the  fainting 
boy  in  her  arms  while  she  directed  the  Sun  Maid : 

"  Jump  down  and  tie  the  horses,  as  the  Snake- 
Who-Leaps  showed  you,  by  their  long  bridles.  In 
any  case,  there  is  little  fear  but  they  will  stand. 
Then  follow  me." 

"But  what  ails  my  Caspar,  Other  Mother?" 
asked  the  child,  as  she  sprang  from  her  saddle. 
"  Did  somebody  hurt  him  when  the  guns  fired  ? " 

"  No.  Tie  the  horses.  He  will  be  right  soon. 
It  is  the  fright.     Make  haste,  make  haste! " 

*'  Yes,  yes,  I  will.  My  dear  old  Feather-man 
taught  Kitty  everything.  Every  single  thing  about 
my  Snowbird.  I  can  fasten  her  all  tight  so  she  will 
never,  never  get  away,  unless  I  let  her.  I  will  tie 
Caspar's,  too;  and  shall  your  Chestnut  stay  here 
with  them  two  ?  " 

But  for  once  Wahneenah  did  not  stop  to  hear  her 
darling  out.     She  had  seen  the  deftness  with  which 


126  The  Sun  Maid. 

the  Httle  girl's  small  fingers  had  copied  the  instruc- 
tions of  her  riding-master,  and  had  wondered  at  it 
many  times.  She  trusted  it  now,  knowing  that  the 
lad  needed  her  first  care,  and  meaning  to  carry  him 
through  the  passage  into  the  cave,  then  return  for 
the  other.  She  knew,  also,  that  if  the  soldiers  she 
had  seen  following  them  should  come  upon  the 
tethered  horses,  the  fact  of  their  presence  would 
betray  her  own.  But  from  this  possibility  there  was 
no  escape;  and,  had  she  known  it,  no  need  for  such. 

She  had  scarcely  laid  the  unconscious  boy  down 
upon  the  floor  of  her  retreat  when  Kitty  came 
flying  down  the  tunnel,  her  task  completed. 

"  So  quick,  papoose  ?" 

"  Yes.  Every  one  is  fastened  to  a  pretty  tree, 
and  every  one  is  glad.  Why  did  we  ride  so  fast, 
Wahneenah  ?  It  'most  took  Kitty's  breath  out  of 
her  mouth.  But  I  did  like  it  till  my  Gaspar  looked 
so  queer.  Is  he  sick.  Other  Mother  ?  Why  does  n't 
he  speak  to  me  ?  " 

"  He  is  ill,  in  very  fact,  Girl-Child.  Ill  of  terror. 
Young  as  he  is,  he  has  seen  fearful  sights,  and  they 
have  hurt  his  tender  heart.  But  he  will  soon  be 
better;  and  when  he  is  you  must  not  talk  to  him 
of  our  old  home,  or  of  our  ride,  or  of  anything 
except  that  we  are  making  another  little  festival 
here  in  our  cave.  One  more  cup  of  water,  pa- 
poose,   but    take  care  you   do   not    slip  when  you 


The  Cave  of  Refuge.  127 

dip  it  from  the  spring.  We  will  bathe  his  face 
and  rub  his  hands,  and  by  and  by  he  will  awake 
and  talk." 

Then,  leaving  the  lad  to  the  ministrations  of 
the  child,  and  under  pretence  of  making  "  all  cosy 
for  the  picnic,"  Wahneenah  sped  cautiously  back 
through  the  passage  to  the  edge  of  the  little  grove, 
casting  a  searching  glance  in  each  direction.  To 
her  infinite  relief,  the  glistening  speck  had  vanished 
from  the  landscape,  and  she  concluded  that  the 
white  soldiers  had  ridden  but  a  short  distance  north 
of  the  village,  and  then  returned  to  it.  She  noticed 
with  pride  how  the  little  maid  had  fastened  each  of 
the  brave  animals  that  had  served  them  so  well  in  a 
spot  where  the  grass  was  still  green  and  plentiful, 
and  that  there  was  no  need  of  her  refastening  the 
straps  which  held  them. 

Surely,  her  wisdom  is  more  than  mortal  !  " 
she  exclaimed  in  delight ;  such  as  more  cultured 
mothers  feel  when  they  discover  that  their  little 
ones  are  really  gifted  with  the  common  intelligence 
that  to  them  seems  extraordinary. 

Gaspar  was  awake,  and  looking  about  him  curi- 
ously, when  she  got  back  into  the  cavern ;  and,  in 
response  to  his  silent  inquiry,  she  drew  a  tree-branch 
before  the  opening  and  nodded  smilingly: 

"  That  is  to  keep  the  sunshine  out  of  the  Dark- 
Eyes." 


128  The  Sun  Maid. 

But — where  are  we  ?  Why — oh!  I  remember! 
I  remember!  Must  I  always,  always  see  such  awful 
things  ?  Is  there  no  place  in  this  world  where  I  can 
hide  ?" 

"  Why,  yes,  Dark-Eye.  There  is  just  such  a 
place;  and  we  have  found  it.  Don't  you  remember 
our  sanctuary  ?  Where  the  Black  Partridge  came 
to  eat  the  fish  you  caught  ?  Where  we  have  such  a 
store  of  good  things  put  aside.  Rest  now,  after 
your  ride,  and  the  White  Papoose  shall  make  a 
pillow  for  you  of  the  rushes  I  will  pull.  Then  we  '11 
shut  the  branch  in  close,  like  the  curtain  of  our  wig- 
wam, and  be  as  safe  and  happy  as  a  bird  in  its  nest." 

Wahneenah's  assumed  cheerfulness  did  not  de- 
ceive, though  it  greatly  comforted,  the  terrified  boy ; 
and  the  quietude  of  the  sheltered  spot,  added  to  its 
dimness  and  his  own  exhaustion,  soon  overcame 
him  again,  and  his  eyelids  closed.  But  the  sleep 
into  which  he  drifted  now  was  a  natural  and  restful 
one,  and  he  roused  from  it,  at  Kitty's  summons, 
with  something  of  his  old  courage  —  the  courage 
which  had  made  him  a  hero  that  day  when  he  first 
rode  the  black  gelding,  and  had  used  his  boyish 
strength  to  do  a  man's  work. 

"  When  Other  Mother  did  make  a  fire  and  cook 
us  such  a  nice  breakfast,  we  must  eat  it  quick. 
Kitty  's  ready.  Kitty  's  dreadful  hungry,  Kitty  is. 
Is  you  hungry,  too,  Dark-Eye  ?  " 


The  Cave  of  Refuge.  129 

He  had  not  thought  that  he  was.  But  now  that 
she  mentioned  it,  he  realized  the  fact.  Fortun- 
ately, he  was  so  young  and  healthy  that  the  scenes 
through  which  he  seemed  destined  to  pass  at  such 
frequently-recurring  intervals  could  not  really  affect 
his  physical  condition  for  any  length  of  time.  To 
see  Wahneenah  moving  about  the  little  cavern  as 
calmly  as  if  it  were  her  daily  habit  to  be  there,  and 
to  catch  the  sound  of  the  Sun  Maid's  joyous  laugh- 
ter, was  to  make  the  present  seem  the  only  reality. 

"  Why,  it  's  another  picnic,  is  n't  it  ?  Did  the 
things  actually  happen  back  there  as  I  thought  ? 
Were  we  here  all  night  ?  I  used  to  have  such  terri- 
ble dreams,  when  I  lived  at  the  Fort,  that,  when 
daylight  came,  I  could  not  forget  them.  I  get  con- 
fused between  the  dreams  and  the  true  things." 

An  empty  stomach  makes  a  foolish  head.  Many 
a  squaw  is  afraid  of  her  warrior  before  he  breaks  his 
morning  fast,  and  finds  him  a  lamb  after  it  is  eaten," 
said  Wahneenah,  sententiously. 

Caspar  is  my  warrior.  Other  Mother;  but  I  am 
never  afraid  of  him." 

"You  are  afraid  of  nothing,  Kitty!"  reproved 
the  boy. 

"  But  I  am!  I  am  afraid  I  shall  get  nothing  to 
eat  at  all,  if  you  don't  come  !  " 

So  the  children  ate,  and  Wahneenah  served  them. 

She  was  herself  too  anxious  to  partake  of  any  food, 
9 


130  The  Sun  Maid. 

and  under  her  placid  exterior  she  was  straining  every 
nerve  to  listen  for  any  outward  sounds  which  might 
prove  that  their  refuge  had  been  discovered. 

But  no  sounds  came  to  disturb  them,  and  as  the 
hours  passed  hope  returned  to  her;  and  when  the 
Sun  Maid  had  fallen  asleep,  weary  of  frolic,  and 
Gaspar  again  questioned  her  concerning  the  morn- 
ing, she  answered,  in  good  faith : 

Probably,  it  was  not  half  so  bad  as  it  seemed. 
There  were  many  bad  Indians  in  the  village,  and  it 
is  likely  for  them  that  the  white  soldiers  were  search- 
ing. They  must  have  gone  away  long  since.  By 
and  by,  if  nothing  happens,  we  will  return  to  our 
own  tepee,  and  forget  this  morning's  fright.  The 
Snake-Who-Leaps  will  be  proud  of  his  pupils  for 
the  way  they  rode  at  his  bidding." 

A  shiver  ran  through  the  lad's  frame,  and  he  crept 
within  the  shelter  of  Wahneenah's  arm. 

"  But  did  you  not  see  what  happened  to  him  ? 
He  lies  beneath  the  curtains  of  your  lodge,  and  he 
will  teach  us  no  more.  A  white  soldier  shot  him. 
I  saw  him  fall." 

The  woman  herself  had  not  seen  this,  and  she 
now  sprang  to  her  feet  in  a  fury  of  indignation. 

"A  white  man  killed  him  !  That  grand  old  brave, 
who  should  have  lived  to  be  a  hundred  years!  It 
cannot  be." 

But  it  was." 


The  Cave  of  Refuge.  131 

She  was  the  daughter  of  a  mighty  chief.  Her 
blood  was  royal,  and  she  gloried  in  it.  All  the 
race-hatred  in  her  nature  roused,  and,  for  the  mo- 
ment only,  she  glowered  upon  the  pale-faced  youth 
before  her,  as  if  he  represented,  in  his  small  person, 
all  the  sins  of  his  own  people. 

Then  the  paroxysm  passed,  and  her  nobler  self 
triumphed.  Sitting  down  again,  she  sought  to  draw 
the  boy  back  into  her  embrace,  but  he  held  himself 
aloof,  and  would  not.  So  she  began  to  talk  with 
him  there,  with  a  simple  wisdom  and  dignity  that 
she  had  learned  from  nature  itself. 

'*  Why  should  we  be  angry,  one  with  another,  my 
son  ?  The  Great  Spirit  is  our  Father.  No  man 
comes  into  life  nor  leaves  it  by  a  chance.  What 
the  Mighty  One  decrees,  that  it  is  befalls.  Between 
His  red-skinned  children  and  His  pale-faced  ones 
He  has  put  an  undying  enmity.  I  have  not  always 
so  believed.  I  have  hoped  and  pleaded  for  the 
peace  which  should  glorify  the  world,  even  as  the 
sun  is  glorifying  the  wide  land  outside  of  this  dim 
cavern.  But  it  is  not  so  to  be.  Even  as  the  chief, 
the  Black  Partridge,  said :  there  is  a  feud  which  can 
never  be  overcome,  for  it  is  of  the  Great  Spirit's 
own  planting.  He  that  made  us  all  permits  it. 
Let  us,  then,  in  our  small  place,  cease  to  fight 
against  the  inevitable.  We  have  made  the  com- 
pact.    We  will  abide  by  it.      In  a  tiny  corner  of  the 


132  The  Sun  Maid. 

beautiful  world  we  three  will  live  in  harmony.  Let 
the  rest  go.  Put  away  your  anger  against  my  peo- 
ple, as  I  now  put  aside  mine  against  yours.  The 
Sun  Maid  is  of  both  races,  it  seems  to  me.  She  is 
our  Bond,  our  Peace-maker,  our  Delight.  Behold! 
She  wakes.  Before  her  eyes,  let  no  shadow  of  our 
mutual  trouble  fall.  I  go  outside  to  watch.  If  all 
seems  well,  we  may  ride  home  at  nightfall." 

Save  for  the  danger  to  her  young  charges,  she 
would  have  done  so  even  then.  Far  superior  though 
she  had  always  been  to  them,  her  heart  yearned  over 
the  helpless  women  of  her  tribe  whom  she  had  left 
behind. 

"  But  that  cannot  be.  They  were  tied  fast  by 
their  motherhood  to  the  homes  wherein  they  may 
have  perished,  even  as  I  am  tied  here  by  my  adopted 
ones.  The  beasts,  too,  are  tied ;  but  they,  at  least, 
may  have  a  moment's  freedom." 

So  she  loosed  them,  and  guided  them  to  the  pool 
where  they  could  drink,  and  watched  them  curiously, 
to  see  if  they  would  avail  themselves  of  the  liberty 
she  had  thus  offered.  But  they  did  not.  They 
quaffed  the  clear  water,  then  tossed  their  velvet 
nostrils  about  its  depths  till  it  was  soiled  and  worth- 
less ;  yet  they  turned  of  their  own  accord  away  from 
the  wind-swept  prairie  into  the  shelter  of  the  trees, 
and  grouped  themselves  beneath  one,  as  if  uniting 
against  some  common,  unseen  enemy. 


The  Cave  of  Refuge.  133 

"  They  are  wiser  than  their  masters,"  said  Wah- 
neenah,  patting  her  Chestnut's  beautiful  neck;  and 
seeing  a  deeper  glade,  where  they  might  spend  the 
night  even  more  safely,  she  led  them  thither  and 
fastened  them  again.  Under  ordinary  circumstances 
she  would  have  left  them  untethered  ;  but  she  knew 
not  then  at  what  moment  she  might  again  need 
them,  as  they  had  been  needed  earlier  in  the  day. 

When  the  darkness  fell,  Wahneenah  put  aside  the 
brushwood  door  which  she  had  placed  before  the 
entrance  to  the  cave,  and  sat  down  upon  the  wither- 
ing branch  to  watch  and  wait.  The  children  were 
both  asleep,  and  she  knew  that  if  the  Black  Partridge 
were  still  alive  and  able  he  would  seek  her  there,  as 
he  had  promised  on  that  day  in  the  past  when  they 
had  discussed  the  possibility  of  what  had  really  now 
occurred. 

She  was  not  to  be  disappointed.  While  she  sat, 
contrasting  the  happiness  that  had  been  hers  on  just 
the  night  before  with  the  uncertainty  of  this,  there 
sounded  in  the  sloping  tunnel  the  tread  of  a  moc- 
casined  foot.  Also,  she  could  hear  the  crowding 
of  a  stalwart  figure  against  its  sides,  and  there  was 
something  in  both  sounds  which  told  her  who  was 
coming. 

My  brother  is  late." 

"  It  is  better  thus,  it  may  be,  than  not  at  all." 
The  voice  of  the  Black  Partridge  is  sorrowful." 


134  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  The  heart  of  the  chief  is  broken  within  him.". 

For  a  space  after  that  neither  spoke.  Then 
Wahneenah  rose  and  set  a  candle  in  a  niche  of  the 
wall  and  lighted  it.  By  its  flame  she  could  see  to 
move  about  and  she  presently  had  brought  some 
food  in  a  dish  and  placed  a  gourd  of  water  by  the 
chief's  side. 

The  water  he  drank  eagerly  and  held  the  cup  for 
more;  but  the  food  he  pushed  aside,  relapsing  into 
another  silence. 

Finally,  Wahneenah  spoke. 

"  Has  the  father  of  his  tribe  no  message  for  his 
sister  ?  " 

Over  what  the  ear  does  not  hear,  the  heart  can- 
not grieve." 

"  That  is  a  truth  which  contradicts  itself." 

The  warrior  of  Wahneenah  judged  well  when 
he  chose  this  cavern  for  a  possible  home." 

"It  is  needed,  then  ?  As  the  Black  Partridge 
foretold." 

It  is  needed.     There  is  no  other." 

The  words  were  quietly  spoken ;  but  there  was 
heart-break  in  each  one. 

Our  village  ?  The  home  of  all  our  people  ?  Is 
it  not  still  safe  and  a  refuge  for  all  unfortunates 
among  the  nations  ?  " 

"  Where  Muck-otey-pokee  laughed  by  the  water- 
side, there  is  now  a  heap  of  ruins.      The  river  that 


The  Cave  of  Refuge.  135 

danced  in  the  sunh'ght  is  red  with  the  blood  of  the 
slain  and  of  all  the  lodges  wherein  we  dwelt,  not 
one  remains!  " 

My  brother!  Surely,  much  brooding  has  made 
you  distraught.  Such  cannot  be.  There  were  war- 
riors, hundreds  of  them  in  the  settlement  and  before 
their  arrows  the  pale- faces  fall  like  trees  before  the 
woodman's  axe." 

If  the  arrows  are  not  in  the  quiver,  can  the  war- 
rior shoot  ?  Against  the  man  who  steals  up  in  the 
rear,  can  one  be  prepared  ?  It  was  a  short,  sharp 
battle.  The  innocent  fell  with  the  guilty,  and  the 
earth  receives  them  all.  Where  Muck-otey-pokee 
stood  is  a  blackened  waste.  Those  who  survived 
have  fled,  to  seek  new  homes  wherever  they  may 
find  them.  In  her  pathways  the  dead  faces  stare 
into  the  sky  as  even  yet,  among  the  sandhills,  lie 
and  stare  the  unburied  dead  of  the  Fort  Dearborn 
massacre.  It  is  fate.  It  is  nature.  It  is  the  game 
of  life.  To-day  one  wins,  to-morrow  another.  In 
the  end,  for  all  —  is  death." 

For  a  while  after  that,  Wahneenah  neither  moved 
nor  spoke,  and  the  Black  Partridge  lapsed  into  an- 
other profound  silence.  Finally,  the  woman  rose, 
and  going  to  the  fireplace,  took  handsful  of  its  ashes 
and  strewed  them  upon  her  head  and  face.  Then 
she  drew  her  blanket  over  her  features,  and  thus, 
hiding   her    sorrow   even   from   the   witness  of  the 


136  The  Sun  Maid. 

night,  she  sat  down  again  in  her  place  and  became 
at  once  as  rigid  and  impassive  as  her  brother. 

Thus  the  morning  found  them.  Despite  their 
habit  of  wandering  from  point  to  point,  the  village 
of  Muck-otey-pokee  was  the  rallying-place  of  the 
Pottawatomies,  their  home,  the  ancient  burial- 
ground  of  their  dead.  Its  destruction  meant,  to  the 
far-seeing  Black  Partridge,  also  the  destruction  of 
his  tribe.  Therefore,  as  he  had  said,  his  spirit  was 
broken  within  him. 

But  at  the  last  he  rose  to  depart,  and  still  fasting. 
With  the  solemnity  of  one  who  parted  from  her 
forever,  he  addressed  the  veiled  Wahneenah  and 
bade  her : 

"  Put  aside  the  grief  that  palsies,  and  find  joy  in 
the  children  whom  the  Great  Spirit  has  sent  you. 
They  also  are  homeless  and  orphaned.  There  are 
left  now  no  white  soldiers  to  harry  and  distress. 
This  cavern  is  warmer  than  a  wigwam,  and  there  is 
store  of  food  for  many  more  than  three.  Remain 
here  until  the  springtime  and  by  then  I  may  return. 
I  go  now  to  my  brother  Gomo,  at  St.  Joseph's,  to 
counsel  at  his  fireside  on  what  may  yet  be  done  to 
save  the  remnant  of  our  people.  You  are  safer  here 
than  in  any  village  that  I  know.     Farewell." 

But,  absorbed  in  his  own  gloomy  reflections,  the 
Black  Partridge  for  once  forgot  his  native  caution; 
and   without  waiting  to   reconnoitre,  he  mounted 


The  Cave  of  Refuge.  137 

his  horse  and  rode  boldly  away  from  the  shelter  of 
the  brush  into  the  broad  light  of  the  prairie  and  so 
due  north  toward  the  distant  encampment  of  his 
tribesmen. 

Yet  the  glittering  eyes  of  a  jealous  Indian  were 
watching  him  as  he  rode.  An  Indian  who  had  been 
sheltered  by  the  hospitality  of  the  great  chief,  and 
for  many  months,  in  Muck-otey-pokee;  but  wlio 
had  neither  gratitude  nor  mercy  in  his  heart,  wherein 
was  only  room  for  treachery  and  greed. 

As  Black  Partridge  rode  away  from  the  cave  by 
the  river,  the  other  mounted  his  horse  and  rode 
swiftly  toward  it. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

UNDER  A  WHITE  MAN'S  ROOF. 

THE  log  cabin  of  Abel  and  Mercy  Smith  stood 
within  a  bit  of  forest  that  bordered  the  rich 
prairie. 

As  homes  went  in  those  early  days,  when  Illinois 
was  only  a  territory,  and  in  that  sparsely  settled 
locality,  it  was  a  most  roomy  and  comfortable  abode. 
The  childless  couple  which  dwelt  in  it  were  com- 
fortable also,  although  to  hear  their  daily  converse 
with  one  another  a  stranger  would  not  so  have 
fancied.  They  had  early  come  into  the  wilderness, 
and  had,  therefore,  lived  much  alone.  Yet  each 
was  of  a  most  social  nature,  and  the  result,  as  their 
few  neighbors  said,  of  their  isolated  situation  was 
merely  "  a  case  of  out-talk," 

When  Mercy's  tongue  was  not  wagging,  Abel's 
was,  and  often  both  were  engaged  at  the  same  mo- 
ment. Her  speech  was  sharp  and  decisive;  his  in- 
dolent, and,  to  one  of  her  temperament,  exceedingly 
aggravating.  But,  between  them,  they  managed  to 
keep  up  almost  a  continuous  discourse.  For,  if 
Abel  went  afield,  Mercy  was  sure  to  follow  him 
138 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  139 

upon  various  excuses;  unless  the  weather  were  too 
stormy,  when,  of  course,  he  was  within  doors. 

However,  there  were  times  when  even  their  speech 
lagged  a  little,  and  then  homesickness  seized  the 
mistress  of  the  cabin ;  and  after  several  days  of 
preparation  she  would  set  out  on  foot  or  on  horse- 
back, according  to  the  distance  to  be  traversed,  for 
some  other  settler's  cabin  and  a  wider  exchange  of 
ideas. 

On  a  late  November  day,  when  the  homesickness 
had  become  overpowering,  Mercy  tied  on  her  quilted 
hood  and  pinned  her  heavy  shawl  about  her.  She 
had  filled  a  carpet  bag  with  corn  to  pop  and  nuts  to 
crack,  for  the  children  of  her  expected  hostess  and 
had  "  set  up  "  a  fresh  pair  of  long  stockings  to  knit 
for  Abel.  She  now  called  him  from  the  stable  into 
the  living  room  to  hear  her  last  remarks. 

"  If  I  should  be  kep'  over  night,  Abel,  you  '11  find 
a  plenty  to  eat.  There  *s  a  big  pot  of  baked  beans 
in  the  lean-to,  and  some  apple  pies,  and  a  pumpkin 
one.  The  ham  's  all  sliced  ready  to  fry,  and  I  do 
hope  to  goodness  you  won't  spill  grease  'bout  on 
this  rag  carpet.  I  "m  the  only  woman  anywhere's 
round  has  a  rag  carpet  all  over  her  floor,  any  way, 
and  the  idee  of  your  sp'ilin'  it  just  makes  me  sick. 
I— " 

"  But  I  hain't  sp'iled  it  yet,  ma.  You  hain't  give 
me  no  chance.      If  vou  do — " 


140  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  If  I  do!  Ain't  I  leavin'  you  to  get  your  own 
breakfast,  in  case  I  don't  come  back  ?  It  might  rain 
or  snow,  ary  one,  an'  then  where  'd  I  be  ?  " 

"  Right  where  you  happened  to  be  at,  I  s'pose," 
returned  Abel,  facetiously. 

But  it  was  wasted  wit.  The  idea  of  being  storm - 
stayed  now  filled  the  housewife's  mind.  She  was 
capable,  and  full  of  New  England  gumption  ;  but  her 
husband  "  was  a  born  botch."  True,  he  could  split 
a  log,  or  clear  a  woodland  with  the  best ;  and  as  for  a 
ploughman,  his  richly  fertile  corn  bottom  and  regu- 
lar eastern-sort-of-garden  testified  to  his  ability. 
But  she  was  leaving  him  with  the  possibility  of  wo- 
man's work  to  do;  and  as  she  reflected  upon  the 
condition  of  her  cupboard  when  she  should  return 
and  the  amount  of  cream  he  would  probably  spill, 
should  he  attempt  to  skim  it  for  the  churning,  her 
mind  misgave  her  and  she  began  slowly  to  untie  the 
great  hood. 

"  I  beheve  I  won't  go  after  all." 

"  Won't  go,  ma  ?     Why  not  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  '11  get  everything  upset." 

"  I  won't  touch  a  thing  more  'n  I  have  to.  I  '11 
set  right  here  in  the  chimney-corner  an'  doze  an' 
take  it  easy.  The  fall  work  's  all  done,  an'  I  'd 
ought  to  rest  a  mite." 

"Rest!  Rest?  Yes.  That  's  what  a  man 
always  thinks  of.     It  's  a  woman  who  has  to  keep 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  141 

at  it,  early  an'  late,  winter  an'  summer,  sick  or  well. 
If  I  should  go  an'  happen  to  take  cold,  I  don't  know 
what  to  the  land  would  become  of  you,  Abel 
Smith." 

I  don't  either,  ma." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  during  which  Mercy 
tied  and  untied  her  bonnet-strings  a  number  of 
times;  and  each  time  with  a  greater  hesitancy. 
Finally,  she  pulled  from  her  head  the  uneasy  cover- 
ing and  laid  it  on  the  table.  Then  she  unpinned 
her  shawl,  and  Abel  regarded  these  signs  ruefully. 
But  he  knew  the  nature  with  which  he  had  to  deal; 
and  the  occasional  absences  that  were  so  necessary 
to  Mercy's  happiness  were  also  seasons  of  great  re- 
freshment to  himself.  During  them  he  felt  almost, 
and  sometimes  quite,  his  own  master.  He  loafed, 
and  smoked,  and  whittled,  and  even  brought  out 
his  old  fiddle  and  just  "  played  himself  crazy  " — so 
his  wife  declared.  Even  then  he  was  already  re- 
calling a  tune  he  had  heard  a  passing  teamster 
whistle  and  was  longing  to  try  it  for  himself.  He 
abruptly  changed  his  tactics. 

Looking  into  Mercy's  face  with  an  appearance 
of  great  gladness,  he  exclaimed  : 

"  Now  ain't  that  grand!  Here  was  I,  thinkin'  of 
myself  all  alone,  and  you  off  havin'  such  a  good 
time,  talkin'  over  old  ways  out  East  an'  hearin' 
all  the  news  that  's  going.     There.     Take  right  off 


142  The  Sun  Maid. 

your  things  an'  I  '11  help  put  'em  away  for  you. 
You  've  got  such  a  lot  cooked  up  you  can  afford  to 
get  out  your  patchwork,  and  I  '11  fiddle  a  bit  and — " 

"  Abel  Smith!  I  did  n't  think  you  'd  go  and 
begrudge  me  a  little  pleasure.  Me,  that  has  slaved 
an'  dug  an'  worked  myself  sick  a  help-meetin'  an' 
savin'  for  you.     I  really  did  n't." 

Well,  I  'm  not  begrudging  anybody.  An'  I 
don't  s'pose  there  is  much  news  we  hain't  heard. 
Though  there  was  a  new  family  of  settlers  moved 
out  on  the  mill-road  last  week,  I  don't  reckon 
they  'd  be  anybody  that  we  'd  care  about.  Folks 
have  to  be  a  mite  particular,  even  out  here  in 
Illinois." 

Mercy  paused,  with  her  half-folded  shawl  in  her 
hands.  Then,  with  considerable  emphasis,  she  un- 
folded it  again,  and  deliberately  fastened  it  about  her 
plump  person. 

"  Well,  I  'm  goin'.  It  's  rainin'  a  little,  but  none 
to  hurt.  I  've  fixed  a  dose  of  cough  syrup  for  Mis' 
Waldron's  baby,  an'  I  'd  ought  to  go  an'  give  it  to 
her.  Them  new  folks  has  come  right  near  her  farm, 
I  hear.  If  you  ain't  man  enough  to  look  out  for 
yourself  for  a  few  hours,  you  cert'nly  ain't  enough 
account  for  me  to  worry  over.  But  take  good  care 
of  yourself,  Abel.  I  'm  goin'.  I  feel  it  my  duty. 
There  's  a  roast  spare-rib  an'  some  potatoes  ready 
to  fry;  an'  the  meal  for  the  stirabout  is  all  in  the 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  143 

measure  an' — good-by,  I  '11  likely  be  back  to- 
night.    If  not,  by  milkin'  time  to-morrow  morning." 

Abel  had  taken  down  the  almanac  from  its  nail  in 
the  wall  and  had  pretended  to  be  absorbed  in  its 
contents.  He  did  not  even  lift  his  eyes  as  his  wife 
went  out  and  shut  the  door.  He  still  continued  to 
search  the  "  prognostics  "  long  after  the  cabin  had 
become  utterly  silent,  not  daring  to  glance  through 
the  small  window,  lest  she  should  discover  him  and 
be  reminded  of  some  imaginary,  duty  toward  him 
that  would  make  her  return. 

But,  at  the  end  of  fifteen  minutes,  since  nothing 
happened  and  the  stillness  remained  profound,  he 
hung  the  almanac  back  in  its  place,  clapped  his 
hands  and  executed  a  sort  of  joy-dance  which  was 
quite  original  with  himself.  Then  he  drew  his 
splint-bottomed  chair  before  the  open  fire,  tucked 
his  fiddle  under  his  chin,  and  proceeded  to  enjoy 
himself. 

For  more  than  an  hour,  he  played  and  whistled 
and  felt  as  royal  and  happy  as  a  king.  By  the  end 
of  that  time  he  had  grown  a  little  tired  of  music,  and 
noticed  that  the  drizzle  of  the  early  morning  had 
settled  into  a  steady,  freezing  downpour.  The 
trees  were  already  becoming  coated  with  ice  and 
their  branches  to  creak  dismally  in  the  rising 
wind. 

"  Never  see  such  a  country  for  wind  as  this  is. 


144  The  Sun  Maid. 

Blows  all  the  time,  the  year  round.  Hope  Mercy  '11 
be  able  to  keep  ahead  of  the  storm.  She  's  a  power- 
ful free  traveller,  Mercy  is,  an'  don't  stan'  for 
trifles.  But — my  soul!  Ain't  she  a  talker?  I 
realize  that  when  her  back  's  turned.  It  's  so  still 
in  this  cabin  I  could  hear  a  pin  drop,  if  there  was 
anybody  round  had  n't  nothin'  better  to  do  than  to 
drop  one.  Hmm,  I  s'pose  I  could  find  some  sort 
of  job  out  there  to  the  barn.  But  I  ain't  goin'  to. 
I  'm  just  goin'  to  play  hookey  by  myself  this  whole 
endurin'  day,  an'  see  what  comes  of  it.  I  believe 
I  '11  just  tackle  one  of  them  pumpkin  pies.  'T  ain't 
so  long  since  breakfast,  but  eatin'  kind  of  passes  the 
time  along.  I  wish  I  had  a  newspaper.  I  wish 
somethin'  would  turn  up.  I — I  would  n't  let  Mercy 
know  it,  not  for  a  farm ;  but  '/  is  lonesome  here  all 
by  myself.  I  hain't  never  noticed  it  so  much  as  I 
do  this  mornin'.  Whew !  Hear  that  wind  !  It 's  a 
good  mile  an'  a  half  to  Waldron's.  I  hope  Mercy  's 
got  there  'fore  this." 

Abel  closed  the  outer  door,  and  crossed  to  the 
well-stocked  cupboard.  As  he  stood  contemplating 
its  contents,  and  undecided  as  to  which  would  really 
best  suit  his  present  mood,  there  came  a  sound  of 
somebody  approaching  the  house  along  the  slippery 
footpath.  This  was  so  unexpected  that  it  startled 
the  pioneer.  Then  he  reflected :  "  Mercy.  She  's 
come  back!  "  and  remained  guiltily  standing  with 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  145 

his  hand  upon  the  edge  of  a  pie  plate,  Hke  a  school- 
boy pilfering  his  mother's  larder. 

"  Rat-a-tat-a-tat!  " 

"  Somebody  knockin* !  That  ain't  Mercy!  Who 
the  land,  I  wonder!  " 

He  made  haste  to  see  and  opened  the  heavy  door 
to  the  demand  of  a  young  boy,  who  stood  shivering 
before  it.  At  a  little  distance  further  from  the 
house  was,  also,  a  woman  wrapped  in  a  blanket  that 
glistened  with  sleet,  and  which  seemed  to  enfold  be- 
sides herself  the  form  of  a  little  child. 

"  My  land!  my  land!  Why,  bubby !  where  in 
the  world  did  you  drop  from  ?  Is  that  your  ma  ? 
No.  I  see  she  's  an  Indian,  an'  you  're  as  white  as 
the  frost  itself.     Come  in.     Come  right  in." 

'But  the  lad  lingered  on  the  threshold  and  asked 
with  chattering  teeth,  which  showed  how  chilled  he 
was: 

"  Can  Wahneenah  come  too  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  who  in  Christendom  Wahneeny  is, 
but  you  folks  all  come  straight  in  out  of  the  storm. 
'T  won't  do  to  keep  the  door  open  so  long,  for  the 
sleet  's  beating  right  in  on  Mercy's  carpet.  There  'd 
be  the  dickens  to  pay  if  she  saw  that." 

Caspar,  for  it  was  he,  ran  quickly  back  toward  the 
motionless  Wahneenah,  and,  clutching  the  corner  of 
her  blanket,  dragged  her  forward.  She  seemed  re- 
luctant to  follow,   notwithstanding  her  half-frozen 


146  The  Sun  Maid. 

condition  and  she  glanced  into  Abel's  honest  face 
with  keen  inquiry.  Yet  seeing  nothing  but  good- 
natured  pity  in  it,  she  entered  the  cabin,  and  herself 
shut  the  door.  Yet  she  kept  her  place  close  to  the 
exit,  even  after  Caspar  had  pulled  the  blanket  apart 
and  revealed  the  white  face  of  the  Sun  Maid  lying 
on  her  breast. 

"  Why,  why,  why  !  poor  child  !  Poor  little 
creatur'.  Where  in  the  world  did  you  hail  from  to 
be  out  in  such  weather  ?  Did  n't  you  have  ary 
home  to  stay  in  ?  But,  there.  I  need  n't  ask  that, 
because  there  's  Mercy  off  trapesing  just  the  same, 
an'  her  with  the  best  cabin  on  the  frontier.  I  s'pose 
this  Wahneeny  was  took  with  a  gossipin'  fit,  too, 
an'  set  out  to  find  her  own  cronies.  But  I  don't 
recollect  as  I  've  heard  of  any  Indians  livin'  out  this 
way. 

By  this  time  the  water  that  had  been  frozen  upon 
the  wanderers'  clothing  had  begun  to  melt,  and  was 
drip-dripping  in  little  puddles  upon  Mercy's  beloved 
carpet.  Abel  eyed  these  with  dismay,  and  finally 
hit  upon  the  happy  expedient  of  turning  back  the 
loose  breadth  of  the  heavy  fabric  which  bordered 
the  hearth.  Upon  the  bare  boards  thus  revealed  he 
placed  three  chairs,  and  invited  his  guests  to  take 
them. 

Gaspar  dropped  into  one  very  promptly,  but  the 
squaw  did  not  advance  until  the  boy  cried : 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  147 

"  Do  come,  Other  Mother.  Poor  Kitty  will  wake 
up  then,  and  feel  all  right." 

The  atmosphere  of  any  house  was  always  uncom- 
fortable to  Wahneenah.  Even  then,  she  felt  as  if 
she  had  stepped  from  freedom  into  prison,  cold 
though  she  was  and  half-famished  with  hunger. 
Personally,  she  would  rather  have  taken  her  bit  of 
food  out  under  the  trees;  but  the  thought  of  her 
Sun  Maid  was  always  powerful  to  move  her.  She 
laid  aside  the  wet  blanket,  and  carried  the  drowsy 
little  one  to  the  fireside,  where  the  warmth  soon  re- 
vived the  child  so  that  she  sat  up  on  her  foster- 
mother's  lap,  and  gazed  about  her  with  awakening 
curiosity.  Then  she  began  to  smile  on  Abel,  who 
stood  regarding  her  wonderful  loveliness  with  un- 
disguised amazement,  and  to  prattle  to  him  in  her 
accustomed  way. 

"  Why,  you  nice,  nice  man!  Is  n't  this  a  pretty 
place.  Is  n't  it  beau'ful  warm  ?  I  'm  so  glad  we 
came.  It  was  cold  out  of  doors,  was  n't  it.  Other 
Mother  ?  Did  you  know  all  the  time  what  a  good 
warm  fire  was  here  ?     Was  that  why  we  came  ?  " 

' '  I  knew  nothing, ' '  answered  Wahneenah,  stolidly. 

"  But  I  did!  "  cried  Caspar.  "  As  soon  as  I  saw 
the  smoke  of  your  chimney  I  said  :  '  That  is  a  white 
man's  house.  We  will  go  and  stay  in  it.'  It  's  a 
nice  house,  sir,  and,  like  Kitty,  I  am  glad  we  came. 
Do  you  live  here  all  alone  ?  " 


148  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  No.  My  wife,  Mercy,  has  gone  a  visiting. 
That  's  why  I  happen  to  be  here  doin'  nothin'.  I 
mean — I  might  have  been  to  the  barn  an'  not  heard 
you.  You  're  lookin'  into  that  cupboard  pretty 
sharp.  Be  you  hungry  ?  But  I  need  n't  ask  that. 
A  boy  always  is." 

"  I  am  hungry.  We  all  are.  We  have  n't  had 
anything  to  eat  in  —  days,  I  guess.  Are  those  pies 
—  regular  pies,  on  the  shelves  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Do  you  like  pies  ? " 

"  I  used  to.  I  have  n't  had  any  since  I  left  the 
Fort." 

"  Left  what  ?" 

"  The  Fort.  Fort  Dearborn.  Did  you  know 
it  ?" 

"  Course.  That  is,  about  it.  But  there  ain't  no 
Fort  now.     Don't  tell  stories." 

"  I  'm  not.     I  'm  telling  the  truth." 

If  this  was  a  refugee  from  that  unhappy  garrison, 
Abel  felt  that  he  could  not  do  enough  for  the  boy's 
comfort.  He  could  not  refrain  his  suspicious  glances 
from  Wahneenah's  dark  face,  but  as  she  kept  her 
own  gaze  fixed  upon  the  ground,  he  concluded  she 
did  not  see  them.  In  any  case,  she  was  only  an 
Indian,  and  therefore  to  be  treated  with  scant 
courtesy. 

Mercy  would  have  been  surprised  to  see  with 
what  handiness  her  husband  played  the  host  in  her 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  149 

absence  and  now  he  whipped  off  the  red  woollen 
cover  from  the  table  and  rolled  it  toward  the  fire- 
place. But  she  would  not  have  approved  at  all  of 
the  lavishness  with  which  he  set  before  his  guests 
the  best  things  from  her  cupboard.  There  was  a 
cold  rabbit  patty,  the  pot  of  beans,  light  loaves  of 
sweet  rye  bread,  and  a  pat  of  golden  butter.  To 
these  he  added  a  generous  pitcher  of  milk,  and  be- 
side Caspar's  own  plate  he  placed  both  a  pumpkin 
and  a  dried-apple  pie. 

"  I  'd  begin  with  these,  if  I  was  you,  sonny. 
Baked  beans  come  by  nature,  seems  to  me,  but  pies 
are  a  gift  of  grace.  Though  I  must  say  my  wife 
don't  stint  'em  when  she  takes  it  into  her  head  to 
go  gallivantin'  an'  leaves  me  to  housekeep.  'Pears 
to  think  then  I  must  have  somethin'  sort  of  com- 
fortin'.  I  'd  start  in  on  pie,  if  I  was  a  little  shaver, 
an'  take  the  beans  last." 

This  might  not  have  been  the  best  of  advice  to 
give  a  lad  whose  fast  had  been  so  long  continued  as 
Caspar's,  but  it  suited  that  young  person  exactly. 
Indeed,  in  all  his  life  he  had  never  seen  so  well 
spread  a  table,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  obeying  his 
entertainer's  suggestion.  But  he  noticed  with  regret 
that  his  foster-mother  did  not  touch  the  proffered 
food,  and  that  she  ministered  even  gingerly  to 
Kitty's  wants. 

Yet  there  was  nobody,   however  austere  or  un- 


150  The  Sun  Maid. 

happy,  who  could  long  resist  the  happy  influence  of 
the  little  girl,  and  least  of  all  the  woman  who  so 
loved  her.  As  the  Sun  Maid's  color  returned  to  her 
face,  and  her  stiffened  limbs  began  to  resume  their 
suppleness,  something  of  the  anxiety  left  Wah- 
neenah's  eyes,  and  she  condescended  to  receive  a 
bowl  of  milk  and  a  slice  of  bread  from  Abel's  hand. 

The  fact  that  she  would  at  last  break  her  own  fast 
made  all  comfortable ;  and  as  soon  as  Caspar's  appe- 
tite was  so  far  appeased  that  he  could  begin  upon 
the  beans,  the  settler  demanded : 

"  Now,  sonny,  talk.  Tell  me  the  whole  endurin' 
story  from  A  to  Izzard.  Where  'd  you  come  from 
now  ?  Where  was  you  bound  ?  What  's  your 
name  ?  an'  her's  ?  an'  the  little  tacker's  ?  My !  but 
ain't  she  a  beauty!  I  never  see  ary  such  hair  on 
anybody's  head,  black  or  white.  It  's  gettin'  dry, 
ain't  it;  an'  how  it  does  fly  round,  just  like  foam." 

"  I  'm  not  '  sonny,'  nor  '  bubby.'  I  'm  Gaspar 
Keith.  I  was  brought  up  at  Fort  Dearborn.  After 
the  massacre,  I  was  taken  to  Muck-otey-pokee. 
I—" 

But  the  lad's  thoughts  already  began  to  grow 
sombre,  and  he  became  so  abruptly  silent  that  Abel 
prompted  him. 

"  Hmm.  I  've  heard  of  that  —  that  —  Mucky 
place.  Indian  settlement,  was  n't  it  ?  Took  pris- 
oner, was  you  ? " 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  151 

No.  I  was  n't  a  prisoner,  exactly.  I  was  just 
a  —  just  a  friend  of  the  family,  I  guess." 

Oh  ?  So.  A  friend  of  an  Indian  family, 
sonny  ?" 

If  you  'd  rather  not  call  me  Caspar,  you  can 
please  say  '  Dark- Eye.'  That  's  my  new  Indian 
name ;  but  I  hate  those  other  ones.  They  make  me 
think  I  am  a  baby.  And  I  'm  not.  I  am  a  man, 
almost." 

So  you  be.  So  you  be,"  agreed  Abel,  admiring 
the  little  fellow's  spirit.  "  I  'low  you  've  seen 
sights,  now,  hain't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dreadful  ones;  so  dreadful  that  I  can't  talk 
about  them  to  anybody.  Not  even  to  you,  who  have 
given  us  this  nice  food  and  let  us  warm  ourselves. 
I  would  if  I  could,  you  see;  only  when  I  let  myself 
think,  I  just  get  queer  in  the  head  and  afraid.  So 
I  won't  even  think.  It  does  n't  do  for  a  boy  to  be 
afraid.  Not  when  he  has  his  mother  and  sister  to 
take  care  of." 

There  was  the  faintest  lightening  of  the  gloom 
upon  the  Indian  woman's  face  as  Dark- Eye  said  this. 
But  he  was,  apart  from  his  terror  of  bloodshed  and 
fighting,  a  courageous  lad,  and  had,  during  their 
past  days  of  wandering,  proved  the  good  stuff  of 
which  he  was  made.  Many  a  day  he  had  gone 
without  eating  that  the  remnant  of  their  food  might 
be  saved  for  the  Sun  Maid  ;  and  though  it  was,  of 


152  The  Sun  Maid. 

course,  Wahneenah  who  had  taken  all  the  care  of 
the  children,  if  it  pleased  him  to  consider  their  cases 
reversed  he  should  be  left  to  his  own  opinion. 

"  You  're  right,  boy.  I  '11  call  you  Caspar,  easy 
enough.  Only,  you  see,  I  hain't  got  no  sons  of  my 
own  an'  it  kind  of  makes  things  seem  cosier  if  I  call 
other  folkes's  youngsters  that  way.  Every  little 
shaver  this  side  of  Illinois  calls  me  '  Uncle  Abe,'  I 
reckon.  But  go  on  v;ith  your  yarn.  My,  my,  my! 
Won't  Mercy  be  beat  when  she  comes  home  an' 
hears  all  that  's  happened  whilst  she  was  gone.  Go 
on." 

So  Caspar  told  all  that  had  occurred  since  the 
Black  Partridge  parted  from  his  sister  in  the  cavern 
and  rode  away  toward  St.  Joseph's.  How  that  very 
day  came  one  of  the  visiting  Indians  who  had  been 
staying  at  Muck-otey-pokee  and  whose  behavior 
toward  the  neighboring  white  settlers  had  been  a 
prominent  cause  of  bringing  the  soldiers'  raid  upon 
the  innocent  and  friendly  hosts  who  had  entertained 
him. 

The  wicked  like  not  solitude,  and  in  the  train  of 
this  traitor  had  followed  many  others.  These  had 
turned  the  cave  into  a  pandemonium  and  had  ap- 
propriated to  their  own  uses  the  stores  which  Black 
Partridge  had  provided  for  Wahneenah.  When  to 
this  robbery  they  had  added  threats  against  the  lives 
of  the  white  children,  whose  presence  at  the  Indian 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  153 

village  they  in  their  turn  declared  had  brought 
destruction  upon  it,  the  chiefs  sister  had  taken  such 
small  portion  of  her  own  property  as  she  could  se- 
cure and  had  set  out  to  find  a  new  home  or  shelter 
for  her  little  ones. 

Since  then  they  had  been  always  wandering. 
Wahneenah  now  had  a  fixed  dread  of  the  pale-faces 
and  had  avoided  their  habitations  as  far  as  might 
be.  They  had  lived  in  the  woods,  upon  the  roots 
and  dried  berries  they  could  find  and  whose  power 
to  sustain  life  the  squaw  had  understood.  But  now 
had  come  the  cold  of  approaching  winter  and  the 
Sun  Maid  had  shown  the  effects  of  her  long  ex- 
posure. Then,  at  Caspar's  pleading,  Wahneenah 
had  put  her  own  distrust  of  strangers  aside  and  had 
come  with  him  to  the  first  cabin  of  white  people 
which  they  could  find. 

"  And  now  we  're  here,  what  will  you  do  with 
us  ?  "  concluded  the  lad,  fixing  his  dark  eyes  ear- 
nestly upon  his  host's  face. 

Abel  fidgetted  a  little;  then,  with  his  happy 
faculty  of  putting  off  till  to-morrow  the  evil  that 
belonged  to  to-day,  he  replied : 

"  Well,  son  —  bub  —  I  mean,  Caspar;  we  hain't 
come  to  that  bridge  yet.  Time  enough  to  cross  it 
when  we  do.  But,  say,  that  little  creatur'  looks  as 
if  she  had  n't  known  what  't  was  to  lie  on  a  decent 
bed  in  a  month  of  Sundays.     She  's  'bout  dried  off 


154  The  Sun  Maid. 

now;  an'  my!  ain't  she  a  pretty  sight  in  them  httle 
Indian's  togs!  S'pose  your  squaw-ma  puts  her  to 
sleep  on  the  bed  yonder.  Notice  that  bedstead  ? 
There  ain't  another  hke  it  this  side  the  East.  I  '11 
just  spread  a  sheet  over  the  quilt,  to  keep  it  clean, 
an'  she  can  snooze  there  all  day,  if  she  likes.  I  '11 
play  you  an  Wahneeny  a  tune  on  my  fiddle  if  you 
want  me  to." 

Caspar  was,  of  course,  delighted  with  this  offer 
but  the  chief's  sister  was  already  tired  of  the  hot 
house  and  had  cast  longing  glances  through  the 
small  window  toward  the  barn  in  the  rear.  That, 
at  least,  would  be  cool,  and  from  its  doorway  she 
calculated  she  could  keep  a  close  watch  upon  the 
door  of  the  cabin,  and  be  ready  at  a  second's  notice 
to  rush  to  her  children's  aid  should  harm  be  offered 
them.  Meanwhile,  for  this  dark  day,  they  would 
have  the  comfort  to  which  their  birthright  entitled 
them.  So  she  went  out  and  left  them  with 
Abel. 

The  hours  flew  by  and  the  storm  continued. 
Abel  had  never  been  happier  nor  jollier;  and  as  the 
twilight  came  down,  and  he  finally  gave  up  all  ex- 
pectation of  Mercy's  immediate  return,  he  waxed 
fairly  hilarious,  cutting  up  absurd  antics  for  the 
mere  delight  of  seeing  the  Sun  Maid  laugh  and 
dance  in  response,  and  because,  under  these  cheer- 
ful conditions,  Caspar's  face  was  losing  its  premature 


Under  a  White  Man's  Roof.  155 

thoughtfulness  and  rounding  to  a  look  more  suited 
to  his  years. 

"  Now,  I  '11  dance  you  a  sailor's  hornpipe,  and 
then  I  must  go  out  and  milk.  If  Ma  'd  been  home, 
it  would  have  been  finished  long  ago.  But  when 
the  cat  's  away  the  mice  will  play,  you  know ;  so 
here  goes. 

Unfortunately,  at  that  very  moment  the  "  cat  " 
to  whom  he  referred,  Mercy,  in  fact,  approached  the 
cabin  from  a  direction  which  even  Wahneenah  did 
not  observe,  and  opened  a  rear  door  plump  upon 
this  unprecedented  scene. 

Abel  stopped  short  in  his  jig,  one  foot  still  up- 
lifted and  his  fiddle  bow  half  drawn,  while  the  Sun 
Maid  was  yet  sweeping  her  most  graceful  curtsey; 
and  even  the  serious  Caspar  had  left  his  seat  to 
prance  about  the  room  to  the  notes  of  Abel's  music. 

Mercy  also  remained  transfixed,  utterly  dum- 
founded,  and  doubting  the  evidence  of  her  own 
senses;  but  after  a  moment  becoming  able  to  ex- 
claim : 

"  So  !  This  is  how  lonesome  you  be  when  I  leave 
you,  is  it  ?  " 


CHAPTER    XII. 

AFTER   FOUR   YEARS. 

DESPITE  a  really  warm  and  hospitable  heart,  it 
was  not  pleasant  for  Mercy  Smith  to  find 
that  her  submissive  husband  had  taken  upon  him- 
self to  keep  open  house  in  this  fashion  for  all  who 
chose  to  call;  and,  as  she  often  expressed  it,  the 
settler's  wife  "  hated  an  Indian  on  sight." 

Upon  her  unexpected  entrance,  there  had  ensued 
a  brief  silence ;  then  the  two  tongues  which  were 
accustomed  to  wag  so  nimbly  took  up  their 
familiar  task  and  a  battle  of  words  followed.  Its 
climax  came  rather  suddenly,  and  was  not  antici- 
pated by  the  housewife  who  declared  with  great 
decision: 

"  I  say  the  children  may  stay  for  a  spell,  till  we 
can  find  a  way  to  dispose  of  'em.  The  boy  's  big 
enough  to  earn  his  keep,  if  he  ain't  too  lazy.  Male 
creatur's  mostly  are.  An'  the  girl  's  no  great  harm 
as  I  see,  'nless  she  's  too  pretty  to  be  wholesome. 
But  that  red-face  goes,  or  I  do.  There  ain't  no 
room  in  this  cabin  for  me  an'  a  squaw  to  one  time. 
You  can  take  your  druther.  She  goes  or  I  do  "  ; 
156 


After  Four  Years.  157 

and  she  glanced  with  animosity  toward  Wahneenah, 
who,  when  hearing  the  fresh  voice  added  to  the 
other  three,  had  come  promptly  upon  Mercy's  re- 
turn to  take  her  stand  just  within  the  entrance. 
There  she  had  remained  ever  since,  silent,  watch- 
ful, and  quite  as  full  of  distrust  concerning  Mercy 
as  Mercy  could  possibly  have  been  toward  herself. 

"  Well,"  said  Abel,  slowly,  and  there  was  a  new 
note  in  his  voice  which  aroused  and  riveted  his 
wife's  attention.  "  Well  —  you  hear  me.  I  don't 
often  claim  to  be  boss,  but  when  I  do  I  mean  it. 
Them  children  can  stay  here  just  as  long  as  they 
will.  For  all  their  lives,  an'  I  '11  be  glad  of  it. 
The  Lord  has  denied  us  any  little  shavers  of  our 
own,  an'  maybe  just  because  in  His  providence  He 
was  plannin'  to  send  them  two  orphans  here  for  us 
to  tend.  As  for  the  squaw,  she  's  proved  her  soul  's 
white,  if  her  skin  is  red,  an'  she  stays  or  goes,  just 
as  she  elects  —  ary  one.  That  's  all.  Now,  you  'd 
better  see  about  fixing  'em  a  place  to  sleep." 

Because  she  was  too  astonished  to  do  otherwise, 
Mercy  complied.  And  Wahneenah  wisely  relieved 
her  unwilling  hostess  of  any  trouble  concerning  her- 
self. She  followed  Abel  to  the  barn,  to  attend  him 
upon  his  belated  "  chores,"  and  to  beg  the  use  of 
some  coarse  blankets  which  she  had  found  stored 
there.  Until  she  could  secure  properly  dressed 
skins  or  bark,  these  would  serve  her  purpose  well 


158  The  Sun  Maid. 

enough  for  the  little  tepee  she  meant  to  pitch  close 
to  the  house  which  sheltered  her  children. 

"  For  I  must  leave  them  under  her  roof  while  the 
winter  lasts.  They  are  not  of  my  race,  and  caimot 
endure  the  cold.  But  I  will  work  just  so  much  as 
will  pay  for  their  keep  and  my  own.  They  shall  be 
beholden  to  the  white  woman  for  naught  but  their 
shelter.  For  that,  too,  I  will  make  restitution  in 
the  days  to  come." 

"  Pshaw,  Wahneeny!  I  would  n't  mind  a  bit  of 
a  sharp  tongue,  if  I  was  you.  Ma  don't  mean  no 
hurt.  She  's  used  to  bein'  boss,  that  's  all;  an'  she 
will  be  the  first  to  be  glad  she  's  got  another  female 
to  consort  with.  I  would  n't  lay  up  no  grudge.  I 
would  n't." 

But  the  matter  settled  itself  as  the  Indian  sug- 
gested. It  was  pain  and  torment  to  her  to  hear 
Mercy  alternately  petting  and  correcting  her  dar- 
lings, yet  for  their  sakes  she  endured  that  much 
and  more.  She  even  failed  to  resent  the  fact  that, 
after  a  short  residence  at  the  farm,  the  Smiths  both 
began  to  refer  to  her  as  "  our  hired  girl,  that  's 
workin'  for  her  keep  an'  the  childern's." 

It  did  not  matter  to  her  now.  Nothing  mattered 
so  long  as  she  was  still  within  sight  and  sound  of 
her  Sun  Maid's  beauty  and  laughter;  and  by  the 
time  spring  came  she  had  procured  the  needful  skins 
to  construct  the  wigwam  she  desired.      Her  skill  in 


After  Four  Years.  159 

nursing,  that  had  been  well  known  among  her  own 
people,  she  now  made  a  means  of  sustaining  her 
independence.  Such  aid  as  she  could  render  was 
indeed  difficult  to  be  obtained  by  the  isolated 
dwellers  in  that  wilderness;  and  having  nursed  Abel 
through  a  siege  of  inflammatory  rheumatism,  as  he 
had  never  been  cared  for  before,  he  sounded  her 
praises  far  and  near,  and  to  all  of  the  chance  passers- 
by. 

For  her  service  among  those  who  could  pay  she 
charged  a  very  moderate  wage,  but  it  sufficed  ;  and, 
for  the  sake  of  pleasing  her  children,  she  adopted  a 
dress  very  like  that  worn  by  all  the  women  of  the 
frontier.  Kitty,  also,  had  soon  been  clothed  "  like 
a  Christian  "  by  Mercy's  decision;  but  Wahneenah 
still  carefully  preserved  the  dainty  Indian  costume 
Katasha  had  given  the  child ;  along  with  the  sacred 
White  Bow  and  the  priceless  Necklace. 

As  for  the  three  horses  on  which  she  and  the  two 
children  had  stolen  away  from  their  enemies  in  the 
cave  of  refuge,  Abel  had  long  ago  decided  that  they 
were  but  kittle  cattle,  unfitted  for  the  sober  woik  of 
life  which  his  own  oxen  and  old  nag  Dobbin  per- 
formed so  well.  So  they  were  left  in  idleness,  to 
graze  where  they  pleased,  and  were  little  used  ex- 
cept by  their  owners  for  a  rare  ride  afield.  The 
Chestnut,  however,  carried  Wahneenah  to  and  fro 
upon  her  nursing  trips;  for,  unless  the  case  were  too 


i6o  The  Sun  Maid. 

urgent  to  be  left,  she  ahvays  returned  at  nightfall  to 
her  own  lodge  and  the  nearness  of  her  Sun  Maid. 

Thus  four  uneventful  years  passed  away,  and  it 
had  come  to  the  time  of  the  wheat  harvest. 

And  it  's  to  be  the  biggest,  grandest  frolic  ever 
was  in  this  part  of  the  country,"  declared  the  settler, 
proudly. 

Whereupon,  days  before,  Mercy  began  to  brew  and 
bake,  and  even  Wahneenah  condescended  to  assist 
in  the  household  labor.  But  she  did  this  that  she 
might  if  possible  lighten  that  of  her  Sun  Maid,  who 
had  now  grown  to  a  "  real  good-sized  girl  an'  just 
as  smart  as  chain  lightning." 

This  was  Abel's  description.  Mercy's  would  have 
been: 

"  Kitty's  well  enough.  But  she  hates  to  sew  her 
seam  like  she  hates  poison.  She  'd  ruther  be  makin' 
posies  an'  animals  out  my  nice  clean  fresh-churned 
butter  than  learn  cookin'.  But  she  's  good-tempered. 
Never  flies  out  at  all,  like  Caspar,  'cept  I  lose  pa- 
tience with  Wahneeny.     Then,  look  sharp  !  " 

"  Well,  I  tell  you  that  out  in  this  country  a  har- 
vestin'  is  a  big  institution  !  "  cried  Abel  to  Caspar 
as,  early  on  the  morning  of  the  eventful  day,  they 
were  making  all  things  ready  for  the  accommodation 
of  the  people  who  would  flock  to  the  Smith  farm  to 
assist  in  the  labor  and  participate  in  the  fun.  "  If 
there  's  some  things  we  miss  here,  we  have  some  that 


After  Four  Years.  i6i 

can't  be  matched  out  East.  Every  white  settler  's 
every  other  settler's  neighbor,  even  though  there  's 
miles  betwixt  their  clearin's.  All  hands  helpin'  so 
makes  light  work  of  raisin'  cabins  or  barns,  sowin', 
reapin',  or  clearin'.  I  —  I  declare  I  feel  as  excited 
as  a  boy.  But  you  don't  seem  to.  You  're  gettin' 
a  great  lad  now,  Gaspar,  an'  one  these  days  I  '11  be 
thinkin'  of  paying  you  some  wages.  If  so  be  I  can 
afford  it,  an' " 

"  And  Mercy  will  let  you!  " 

Hi,  diddle  diddle!  What  's  struck  you  cross- 
wise, sonny  ? " 

I  'm  tired  of  working  so  hard  for  other  people. 
I  want  a  chance  to  do  something  for  myself.  I  'm 
not  ungrateful;  don't  think  it.  But  see.  I  am 
already  taller  than  you  and  I  can  do  as  much  work 
in  a  day.  Where  is  the  justice,  then,  of  my  labor 
going  for  naught  ?  " 

"  Why,  Gaspar.  Why,  why,  why!"  exclaimed 
the  pioneer,  too  astonished  to  say  more. 

Gaspar  went  on  with  his  task  of  clearing  the  barn 
floor  and  arranging  tying  places  for  the  visitors' 
teams;  but  his  dark  face  was  clouded  and  anxious, 
showing  little  of  the  anticipation  which  Abel's  did. 

"  I  'm  going  to  ask  you.  Father  Abel,  to  let  me 
try  for  a  job  somewhere  else;  that  is,  if  you  can't 
really  pay  me  anything,  as  your  wife  declares. 
Then,  by  and  by,  when  I  can  earn  enough  to  get 


i62  The  Sun  Maid. 

ahead  a  little,   I  'd  pay  you  back  for  all  you  've 
spent  on  us  three." 

Abel's  face  had  fallen,  and  he  now  looked  as  if  he 
might  be  expecting  some  dire  disaster  rather  than 
a  frolic.     But  it  brightened  presently. 

Yes,  Caspar;  1  know  you  're  big,  and  well- 
growed.  But  you  're  young  yet  —  dreadful 
young " 

"  I  'm  near  fifteen." 

"  Well,  you  won't  be  out  your  time  till  you  're 
twenty-one." 

"  What  *  time  '  ?  "  asked  the  lad,  angrily,  though 
he  knew  the  answer. 

"  Hmm.  Of  course,  there  was  n't  no  regular 
papers  drawed,  but  it  was  understood  ;  it  was  always 
understood  between  Ma  and  me  that  if  we  took  you 
all  in,  and  did  for  you  while  you  was  growin'  up, 
your  service  belonged  to  us.  Same  's  if  you  'd 
been  bound  by  the  authorities." 

"  Get  over  there,  Dobbin!  " 

"  Pshaw!  You  must  be  real  tried  in  your  mind  to 
hit  a  four-footed  creatur'  like  that.  I  hain't  never 
noticed  that  you  was  short-spoke  with  the  stock — 
not  before  this  morning.  I  wish  you  M^ould  n't  get 
out  of  sorts  to-day,  boy!  I — well,  there  's  things 
afoot  'at  I  think  you  'd  like  to  take  a  share  in. 
There.  That  '11  do.  Now,  just  turn  another  edge 
on  them  reapin'  knives,  an'  see  that  there  's  plenty 


After  Four  Years.  163 

o'  water  in  the  troughs,  an'  feed  them  fattin'  pigs  in 
the  pen,  an' —  Shucks!  He  's  off  already.  I 
wonder  what  's  took  him  so  short !  I  wonder  if  he  's 
got  wind  of  anything  out  the  common!  " 

The  latter  part  of  Abel's  words  were  spoken  to 
himself,  for  Gaspar  had  taken  his  knives  to  the 
grindstone  in  the  yard  and  was  now  calling  for 
Kitty  to  turn  the  stone  for  him,  while  he  should 
hold  the  blades  against  its  surface. 

But  it  was  Mercy  who  answered  his  summons, 
appearing  in  the  doorway  with  her  sleeves  rolled  up, 
her  apron  floured,  and  her  round  face  aglow  with 
haste  and  excitement. 

"  Well  ?  well,  Gaspar  Keith  ?  What  you  want  of 
Kit  ?" 

"  To  help  me." 

"  Help  yourself.     I  can't  spare  her." 

"  Then  I  can't  grind  the  knives.  That  's  all." 
He  tossed  them  down  to  wait  her  pleasure,  and 
Mercy  groaned. 

"  If  I  ain't  the  worst  bestead  woman  in  the  world  ! 
Here  's  all  creation  coming  to  be  fed,  an'  no  help 
but  a  little  girl  like  Kit  an'  a  grumpy  old  squaw  't 
don't  know  enough  to  'preciate  her  privileges. 
Hey!  Gaspar!  Call  Abel  in  to  breakfast.  An' 
after  that  maybe  sissy  can  turn  the  stun.  Here  't  is 
goin'  on  six  o'clock,  if  it  's  a  minute,  an'  some  the 
folks  '11  be  pokin'  over  here  by  seven,  sure!  " 


i64  The  Sun  Maid. 

Then  Mercy  retreated  within  doors  and  directed 
the  Sun  Maid  to: 

"  Fly  'round  right  smart  now  an'  set  the  house 
to  one  side.  Whisk  them  flapjacks  over  quicker  'an 
that,  then  they  '11  not  spHsh-splash  all  over  the 
griddle.  When  I  was  a  little  girl  nine  years  old  I 
could  fry  cakes  as  round  as  an  apple.  No  reason 
why  you  should  n't,  too,  if  you  put  your  mind  to  it. " 

The  Sun  Maid  laughed.  No  amount  of  fret  or 
labor  had  ever  yet  had  power  to  dim  the  brightness 
of  her  nature.  Was  it  the  Sun  Maid,  though  ? 
One  had  to  look  twice  to  see.  For  this  tall,  slender 
girl  now  wore  her  glorious  hair  in  a  braid,  and  her 
frock  was  of  coarse  blue  homespun. 

Her  feet  were  bare,  and  her  plump  shoulders 
bowed  a  little  because  of  the  heavy  burdens  which 
her  "  mother  Mercy  "  saw  fit  to  put  upon  them. 

"  But  I  guess  I  don't  want  to  put  my  mind  to  it. 
I  can't  see  anything  pretty  in  'jacks  which  are  to  be 
eaten  right  up.  Only  I  like  to  have  them  taste 
right  for  the  folks.     That  's  all." 

Abel  and  Caspar  came  in,  and  Kitty  placed  a  plate 
of  steaming  cakes  before  them.  Mercy  hurried  to 
the  big  churn  outside  the  door  and  began  to  work 
the  dasher  up  and  down  as  if  she  had  n't  an  ounce 
of  butter  in  her  dairy  and  must  needs  prepare  this 
lot  for  the  festival.  As  she  churned  she  kept  up  a 
running  fire  of  directions  to  the  household  within, 


After  Four  Years.  165 

finally  suggesting,  in  a  burst  of  liberality  due  to  the 
occasion : 

You  can  fry  what  flapjacks  you  want  for  your- 
self, Wahneeny.  An'  I  don't  know  as  I  care  if  you 
have  a  little  syrup  on  'em  to-day — just  for  once, 
so  to  speak." 

However,  Wahneenah  disdained  even  the  cakes, 
and  the  syrup-jug  was  deposited  in  its  place  with 
undiminished  contents. 

"  Be  you  all  through,  then  ?  Well,  Kit,  fly 
'round.  Clear  the  table  like  lightning,  an'  fetch 
that  butter  bowl  out  the  spring,  an'  see  if  the  salt  's 
all  poun'  an'  sifted ;  an'  open  the  draw's  an'  lay  out 
my  clothes,  an' —  Dear  me!  Does  seem  's  if  I 
should  lose  my  senses  with  so  much  to  do  an'  no 
decent  help,  only " 

"  Hold  on,  Mercy!  What  's  the  use  of  rushin' 
through  life  's  if  you  was  tryin'  to  break  your 
neck  ?  " 

"  Rushin'!    With  all  that 's  comin' here  to-day  .' " 

"  Well,  let  'em  come.  We  '11  be  glad  to  see  'em. 
Nobody  gladder  'n  you  yourself.  But  you  fair  take 
my  breath  away  with  your  everlastin'  hurry-skurry, 
clitter-clatter.  Don't  give  a  man  a  chance  to  even 
kiss  his  little  girl  good-mornin'.  Do  you  know  that, 
Sunny  Maid?  Hain't  said  a  word  to  your  old 
Daddy  yet!  " 

The  child  ran  to  him  and  fondly  flung  her  arms  as 


i66  The  Sun  Maid. 

far  as  they  would  go  around  the  settler's  broad 
shoulders.  It  was  evident  that  there  was  love  and 
sympathy  between  these  two,  though  they  were  to 
be  allowed  short  space  "  for  foolin'  "  that  day,  and 
Mercy's  call  again  interrupted  them: 

"  Come  and  take  this  butter  down  to  the  brook, 
Kit,  an'  wash  it  all  clean,  an'  salt  it  just  right — here 
't  is  measured  off  —  an'  make  haste.  I  do  believe 
you  'd  ruther  stand  there  lovin'  your  old  Abel  — 
homely  creatur' !  —  than  helpin'  me.  Yet,  when  I 
was  a  little  girl  your  age,  I  could  work  the  butter 
over  fit  to  beat  the  queen.  Upon  my  word,  I  do 
declare  I  see  a  wagon  movin'  'crost  the  prairie  this 
very  minute!  Oh!  what  shall  I  do  if  I  ain't  ready 
when  they  get  here!  " 

Catching  at  last  something  of  the  pleasurable  ex- 
citement about  her,  Kitty  lifted  the  heavy  butter- 
tray  and  started  for  the  stream.  The  butter  was  just 
fine  and  firm  enough  to  tempt  her  fingers  into  a  bit 
of  modelling,  such  as  she  had  picked  up  for  herself; 
and  very  speedily  she  had  arranged  a  row  of  minia- 
ture fruits  and  acorns,  and  was  just  attempting  to 
copy  a  flower  which  grew  by  the  bank  when  Wah- 
neenah's  voice,  close  at  hand,  warned  her: 

"  Come,  Girl-Child.  The  white  mistress  is  in 
haste  this  morning.  It  is  better  to  carry  back  the 
butter  in  a  lump  than  to  make  even  such  pretty 
things  and  risk  a  scolding." 


After  Four  Years.  167 

"  But  father  Abel  would  like  them  for  his  com- 
pany.     He  is  very  fond  of  my  fancy  'pats'." 

"  But  not  to-day.  Besides,  if  there  is  time  for 
idleness,  I  want  you  to  pass  it  here  with  me,  in  my 
own  wigwam." 

The  Sun  Maid  looked  up.  "  Shall  you  not  be  at 
the  feasting,  dear  Other  Mother  ?  You  have  many 
friends  among  those  who  are  coming." 

"  Friendship  is  proved  by  too  sharp  a  test  some- 
times. The  way  of  the  world  is  to  follow  the  crowd. 
If  a  person  falls  into  disfavor  with  one,  all  the  rest 
begin  to  pick  flaws.  More  than  that :  the  tempta- 
tion of  money  ruins  even  noble  natures." 

"  Why,  Wahneenah!  You  sound  as  if  you  were 
talking  riddles.  Who  is  tempted  by  money  ?  and 
which  way  does  the  '  crowd  '  you  mean  go  ?  I 
don't  understand  you  at  all." 

"  May  the  Great  Spirit  be  praised  that  it  is  so. 
May  He  long  preserve  to  you  your  innocent  and 
loyal  heart." 

With  these  words,  the  Indian  woman  stooped  and 
laid  her  hand  upon  the  child's  head;  then  slowly 
entered  her  lodge  and  let  its  curtains  fall  behind 
her.  There  was  an  unusual  sternness  about  her  de- 
meanor which  impressed  Kitty  greatly;  so  that  it 
was  with  a  very  sober  face  that  she  herself  gathered 
up  her  burdens  and  returned  to  the  cabin. 

Yet  on  the  short  way  thither  she  met  Caspar,  who 


i68  The  Sun  Maid. 

beckoned  to  her  from  behind  the  shelter  of  a  hay- 
stack, motioning  silence. 

"  But  you  must  n't  keep  me,  Gaspar  boy.  Mother 
Mercy  is  terribly  hurried  this  morning,  and  now,  for 
some  reason,  Other  Mother  has  stopped  helping  and 
has  gone  home  to  the  tepee.  If  I  don't  work,  it  will 
about  crush  her  down,  Mercy  says." 

"  Hang  Mercy!  There.  I  don't  mean  that.  I 
wish  you  would  n't  always  look  so  scared  when  I 
get  mad.  I  am  mad  to-day.  Kit.  Mad  clear 
through.  I  've  got  to  be  around  amongst  folks, 
too,  for  a  while;  but  the  first  minute  you  get,  you 
come  to  that  pile  of  logs  near  Wahneenah's  place, 
and  I  '11  have  something  to  tell  you." 

"No  you  won't!  No  you  won't!  I  know  it 
already.  I  heard  father  Abel  talking.  There  is  to 
'oe  a  horse  race,  after  the  harvesting  and  the  supper 
are  over.  There  is  a  new  man,  or  family,  moved 
into  the  neighborhood  and  he  is  a  horse  trader.  I 
heard  all  about  it,  sir!  " 

"  You  heard  that  ?  Did  you  hear  anything  else  ? 
About  Wahneenah  and  money  ?  " 

"  Only  what  she  told  me  herself  "  ;  repeating  the 
Indian  woman's  words. 

"  Then  she  knows,  poor  thing!"  cried  Gaspar, 
indignantly. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE    HARVESTING. 

KITTY  had  no  time  to  ask  further  explanation. 
Already  there  was  an  ox  team  driving  up  to 
the  cabin  and,  scanning  the  prairies,  she  saw  others 
on  the  way,  so  merely  stopped  to  cry,  eagerly : 

"  They  've  come  !  The  folks  have  come !  "  before 
she  hastened  in  with  the  butter  and  to  see  if  she 
could  in  any  way  help  Mercy  dress  for  the  great 
occasion. 

She  was  just  in  time,  for  the  plump  housewife 
was  vainly  struggling  to  fasten  the  buttons  of  a  new 
lilac  calico  gown  which  she  had  made : 

"  A  teeny  tiny  mite  too  tight.  I  did  n't  know  I 
was  gettin'  so  fat,  I  really  did  n't." 

"  Oh!  it  's  all  right,  dear  Mother  Mercy.  It 
looked  just  lovely  that  day  you  tried  it  on.  I  '11 
help  you.  You  're  all  trembling  and  warm.  That  's 
the  reason  it  bothers." 

She  was  so  deft  and  earnest  in  her  efforts  that 
Mercy  submitted  without  protest,  and  in  this  man- 
ner succeeded  in  "  making  herself  fit  to  be  seen  by 
folks  "  about  the  moment  that  they  arrived  to  ob- 
169 


170  The  Sun  Maid. 

serve.  Then  everything  else  was  forgotten,  amid 
the  greetings  and  gayety  that  followed.  For  out  of 
what  purported  to  be  a  task  the  whole  community 
was  making  a  frolic. 

While  the  men  repaired  to  the  golden  fields  to 
reap  the  grain  the  women  hurried  to  the  smooth 
grassy  place  where  the  harvest-dinner  was  to  be 
enjoyed  out-of-doors. 

Most  of  the  vehicles — which  brought  whole  fami- 
lies, down  to  the  babe  in  long  clothes — were  drawn 
by  oxen,  though  some  of  the  pioneers  owned  fine 
horses  and  had  driven  these,  groomed  with  extraor- 
dinary care  and  destined,  later  on,  to  be  entered  in 
the  races  which  should  conclude  the  business  and 
fun  of  the  day. 

Both  horses  and  oxen  were,  for  the  present,  led 
out  to  graze  upon  a  fine  pasture  and  were  supposed 
to  be  under  the  care,  while  there,  of  the  young  peo- 
ple. These  were,  however,  more  deeply  engaged  in 
playing  games  than  in  watching,  and  for  once  their 
stern  parents  ignored  the  carelessness. 

"  Oh,  such  bright  faces!  "  cried  the  Sun  Maid  to 
Mercy.  "  And  yours  is  the  happiest  of  all,  even 
though  you  did  have  such  a  terrible  time  to  get 
ready.  See,  they  are  fixing  the  tables  out  of  the 
wagon  boards,  and  every  woman  has  brought  her 
own  dishes.  They  're  making  fires,  too,  some  of 
the  bigger  boys.      What  for,  Mother  Mercy  ?  " 


The  Harvesting.  171 

"Oh!  don't  bother  me  now.  It  's  to  boil  the 
coffee  on,  and  to  bake  the  jonny-cakes.  'Journey- 
cakes,'  they  used  to  call  them.  Mis'  Waldron, 
she  's  mixin'  some  this  minute.  Step  acrost  to  her 
table  an'  watch.  A  girl  a'most  ten  years  old  ought 
to  learn  all  kinds  of  housekeepin'." 

Kitty  was  nothing  loath.  It  was,  indeed,  a  treat 
to  see  with  what  skill  the  comely  settler  of  the 
wilderness  mixed  and  tossed  and  patted  her  jonny- 
cake,  famous  all  through  that  countryside  for  light- 
ness and  delicacy ;  and  as  she  finished  each  batch  of 
dough,  and  slapped  it  down  upon  the  board  where  it 
was  to  cook,  she  would  hand  it  over  to  Kitty's 
charge,  with  the  injunction  : 

"  Carry  that  to  one  of  the  fires,  an'  stand  it  up 
slantin',  so  's  to  give  it  a  good  chance  to  bake  even. 
Watch  'em  all,  too;  an'  as  soon  as  they  are  a  nice 
brown  on  one  side,  either  call  me  to  turn  'em  to  the 
other,  or  else  do  it  yourself.  As  Mercy  Smith  says, 
a  girl  can't  begin  too  early  to  housekeep." 

"  But  this  is  out-door  keep,  is  n't  it  ?  "  laughed 
the  Sun  Maid,  as,  with  a  board  upon  each  arm,  she 
bounded  away  to  place  the  cakes  as  she  had  been 
directed. 

In  ordinary,  Mercy  Smith  was  not  a  lavish  wo- 
man ;  but  on  such  a  day  as  this  she  threw  thrift  to  the 
wind  and,  brought  out  the  best  she  could  procure 
for  the  refreshment  of  her  guests;  and  everybody 


172  The  Sun  Maid. 

knows  how  much  better  food  tastes  when  eaten 
out-of-doors  than  in  regular  fashion  beside  a  table. 
The  dinner  was  a  huge  success;  and  even  Caspar, 
whom  Kitty's  loving  watchful  eyes  had  noticed  was 
more  than  usually  serious  that  day,  so  far  relaxed 
his  indignation  as  to  partake  of  the  feast  with  the 
other  visiting  lads. 

But,  when  it  was  over  and  the  women  were  gather- 
ing up  the  dishes,  preparatory  to  cleansing  them  for 
their  homeward  journey,  the  child  came  to  where 
Mercy  stood  among  a  group  of  women,  and  asked : 

"  Shall  I  wash  the  dishes,  Mother  Mercy  ?  " 

"  No,  sissy,  you  need  n't.  We  grown  folks  '11  fix 
that.  If  you  want  something  to  do,  an'  are  tired  of 
out-doors,  you  can  set  right  down  yonder  an'  rock 
Mis'  Waldron's  baby  to  sleep.  By  and  by,  Abel  's 
got  a  job  for  you  will  suit  you  to  a  T !  " 

Kitty  was  by  no  means  tired  of  out-doors,  but  a 
baby  to  attend  was  even  a  greater  rarity  than  a  holi- 
day ;  so  she  sat  down  beside  the  cradle,  which  its 
mother  had  brought  in  her  great  wagon,  and  gently 
swayed  the  little  occupant  into  a  quiet  slumber. 
Then  she  began  to  listen  to  the  voices  about  her, 
and  presently  caught  a  sentence  which  puzzled  her. 
Fifty  dollars  is  a  pile  of  money.  It  's  more  'n 
ary  Indian  ever  was  worth.  Let  alone  a  sulky 
squaw." 

"  Yes  it  is.     An'  I  need  it.     I  need  it  dreadful." 


The  Harvesting.  173 

assented  Mercy,  forgetful  of  the  Sun  Maid's  presence 
in  the  room. 

"  Well,  I,  for  one,  should  be  afraid  of  her,"  ob- 
served another  visitor,  clattering  the  knives  she  was 
wiping.  "  I  would  n't  have  a  squaw  livin'  so  near 
my  door,  an'  that  's  a  fact." 

Kitty  now  understood  that  these  people  were 
speaking  of  Wahneenah,  and  listened  intently. 

"Oh!  I  ain't  afraid  of  her.  Not  that.  But  I 
never  did  like  her,  nor  she  me.  She  's  sullen  an' 
top-lofty.  Why,  you  'd  think  I  was  n't  no  better 
than  the  dirt  under  her  feet,  to  see  her  sometimes. 
She  was  good  to  the  childern,  I  '11  low,  afore  me  an' 
Abel  took  'em  in.  But  that  's  four  years  ago,  an' 
I  *ve  cared  for  'em  ever  since.  Sometimes  I  think 
she  's  regular  bewitched  'em,  they  dote  on  her  so. 
If  you  believe  me,  they  '11  listen  to  her  leastest  word 
sooner  'n  a  whole  hour  of  my  talk!  " 

"  I  should  n't  be  surprised,"  quietly  commented 
one  young  matron,  who  was  jogging  her  own  baby 
to  sleep  by  tipping  her  chair  violently  back  and  forth 
upon  its  four  legs. 

Continued  Mercy: 

"  She  would  n't  eat  a  meal  of  victuals  with  me  if 
she  was  starvin'.  Yet  I  've  treated  her  Christian. 
Only  this  mornin'  I  give  her  leave  to  fry  cakes  for 
herself,  an'  even  have  some  syrup,  but  she  would  n't 
touch  to  do  it.  Yes ;  fifty  dollars  of  good  government 


1/4  The  Sun  Maid. 

money  would  be  more  to  me  'n  she  is,  an'  she  'd 
be  took  care  of,  I  hear,  along  with  all  the  rest 
is  caught.  It  's  time  the  country  was  rid  of  the 
Indians  an'  white  folks  had  a  chance.  There  's  all 
the  while  some  massacrein'  an'  fightin'  goin'  on 
somewhere." 

"  Oh!  I  guess  the  government  just  puts  'em 
under  lock  an'  key,  in  a  guard-house,  or  some  such 
place,  till  it  gets  enough  to  send  away  off  West 
somewheres.  I  'd  get  the  fifty  dollars,  if  I  was  you, 
and  march  her  off.  She  '11  be  puttin'  notions  into 
the  youngsters'  heads  first  you  see  an'  makin' 
trouble." 

*'  I  don't  know  just  how  to  manage  it.  Abel, 
he  's  queer  an'  sot.  He  's  gettin'  tired,  though,  of 
some  things,  himself." 

"  Manage  it  easy  enough.  Like  fallin'  off  a  log. 
My  man  could  do  you  that  good  turn.  She  could 
be  took  along  in  our  wagon  as  far  as  the  Agency. 
Then,  next  time  he  comes  by  with  his  grist  on  his 
road  to  mill,  he  could  fetch  you  the  money.  I  'd 
do  it,  sure.  I  only  wish  I  had  an  Indian  to  catch  as 
handy  as  she  is. "  Having  given  this  advice,  Mercy's 
guest  sat  down. 

There  was  a  rush  of  small  feet  and  the  Sun  Maid 
confronted  them.  Her  blue  eyes  blazed  with  in- 
dignation, her  face  was  white,  and  her  hair,  which 
the  day's  activity  had  loosed  from  its  braid,  streamed 


The  Harvesting.  175 

backward  as  if  every  fibre  quivered  with  life.  With 
heaving  breast  and  clenched  hands,  she  faced  them 
all. 

Oh,  how  dare  you!  How  dare  you!  You  are 
talking  of  my  Wahneenah ;  of  selling  her,  of  selling 
her  like  a  pig  or  a  horse.  Even  you,  Mrs.  Jordan, 
though  she  nursed  your  little  one  till  it  got  well,  and 
only  told  you  the  truth:  that  if  you  'd  look  after  it 
more  and  visit  less  it  would  n't  have  the  croup  so 
often.  You  did  n't  like  to  hear  her  say  it,  and  you 
do  not  love  her.  But  she  is  good,  good,  good ! 
There  is  nobody  so  good  as  she  is.  And  no  harm 
shall  come  to  her.  I  tell  you.  I  say  it.  I,  the 
Sun  Maid,  whom  the  Great  Spirit  sent  to  her  out 
of  the  sky.  I  will  go  and  tell  her  at  once.  She  shall 
run  away.  She  shall  not  be  sold  —  never,  never, 
never!  " 

The  women  remained  dumfounded  where  she 
left  them,  watching  her  skim  the  distance  between 
cabin  and  wigwam,  scarcely  touching  the  earth  with 
her  bare  feet  in  her  haste  to  warn  her  friend  of  this 
new  danger  which  threatened  her  and  her  race.  For 
it  was  quite  true,  this  matter  that  had  been  dis- 
cussed. The  Indians  had  given  so  much  trouble  in 
the  sparsely  settled  country  that  the  authorities  had 
offered  a  price  for  their  capture ;  and  it  was  this 
price  which  money-loving  Mercy  coveted. 

Like  a  flash  of  a  bird's  wing,  Kitty  had  darted  into 


176  The  Sun  Maid. 

the  lodge  and  out  again,  with  an  agony  of  fear  upon 
her  features ;  and  then  she  saw  Caspar  beckoning. 

As  she  reached  him  he  motioned  silence  and  drew 
her  away  into  the  shadow  of  the  forest,  that  just 
there  fringed  the  clearing  behind  the  tepee. 

"  But  —  Wahneenah's  gone  !  "  she  whispered. 

"  Don't  worry.  She  's  safe  enough  for  the  pres- 
ent. Listen  to  me.  Do  you  remember  the  horse- 
racing  last  yeai  ?  " 

"  Course.  I  remember  I  got  so  excited  over  the 
horses,  and  so  sorry  for  the  boys  that  rode  and 
did  n't  win.  But  what  of  that  ?  Other  Mother  has 
gone  !  " 

"  I  tell  you  she  's  safe.  Safer  than  you  or  me. 
Listen.  Abel  says  we,  too,  will  have  to  ride  a  race 
to-day!  On  Tempest  and  Snowbird.  Even  if  we 
win,  the  money  will  belong  to  him  ;  and  if  we  lose — 
he  's  going  to  sell  one  of  our  horses  to  pay  his  loss. 
I  heard  him  say  it." 

"  But  they  are  ours!  " 

"  He  's  kept  them  all  these  years,  he  says.  He 
claims  the  right  to  do  with  them  as  he  chooses.  Bad 
as  that  is,  it  is  n't  the  worst.  Though  Wahneenah 
is  safe,  still  she  will  not  be  always.  You  and  I  will 
have  to  ride  this  race — to  save  her  life,  or  liberty!  " 

*'  What  do  —  you  —  mean  ?  " 

**  I  have  n't  time  to  explain.  Only — will  you  do 
as  I  say  ?     Exactly  ?  " 


The  Harvestino-.  177 

"  Of  course."  Kitty  looked  inquiringly  into  her 
foster-brother's  face.  Did  n't  he  know  she  loved 
him  better  than  anybody  and  would  mind  him 
always  ? 

"  When  we  are  on  the  horses  if  I  say  to  you: 
'  Follow  me!  '   will  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  Away  to  the  sky,  over  yonder,  if 
you  want  me." 

"  Even  if  any  grown  folks  should  try  to  stop  you  ? 
Even  if  Abel  or  Mercy  ?  " 

"  Even  " — declared  the  little  girl,  sincerely. 

"  Now  go  back  to  the  house,  or  anywhere  you 
please  till  Abel  calls  you,  or  I  do.  Then  come  and 
mount.  And  then — then — do  exactly  as  I  tell  you. 
Remember." 

He  went  away,  back  to  the  group  of  men  about 
the  barn,  and  Kitty  sat  down  in  the  shady  place  to 
wait.  But  it  was  not  for  long.  Presently  she  heard 
Mercy  calling  her,  and  saw  Abel,  with  Gaspar,  lead- 
ing the  black  gelding  and  pretty  Snowbird  out  of 
the  stable  toward  a  ring  of  other  horses.  She  got 
up  and  passed  toward  the  cabin  very  slowly.  Oddly 
enough,  she  began  to  feel  timid  about  riding  before 
all  those  watching,  strange  faces;  yet  did  not  under- 
stand why.  Then  she  thought  of  Wahneenah,  and 
her  returning  anger  made  her  indifferent  to  them. 

"  Abel  wants  you.  Kit!  "  cried  Mrs.  Smith,  quite 
ignoring  the  child's  recent  outbreak,  and  the  girl 


178  The  Sun  Maid. 

walked  quietly  toward  him.  But  it  was  Caspar  who 
helped  to  swing  her  into  her  saddle,  where  she  set- 
tled herself  with  an  ease  learned  long  ago  of  the 
Snake-Who-Leaps.  The  lad,  also,  found  time  to 
whisper : 

"  Remember  your  promise!  We  are  to  ride  this 
race  for  Wahneenah's  life  —  though  nobody  knows 
that  save  you  and  me.  So  ride  your  best.  Ride 
as  you  never  rode  before  —  and  on  the  road  I  lead 
you !  " 

The  sons  of  the  new  settler  and  horse  dealer  were 
to  ride  against  these  two.  There  were  three  of  these 
youths,  all  well  mounted,  and  the  course  was  to  be 
a  certain  number  of  times  around  the  great  wheat 
field  so  freshly  reaped.  It  was  a  rough  route,  in- 
deed, but  as  just  for  one  as  another,  and  in  plain 
sight  of  all  the  visitors.  The  five  horses  ranged  in 
a  row  with  their  noses  touching  a  line,  held  by  two 
men,  that  fell  as  the  word  was  given : 

"  One — two — three — GO  !  " 

They  went.  They  made  the  circuit  of  the  field 
in  fair  style,  with  the  three  strangers  a  trifle  ahead. 
On  the  completion  of  the  second  heat,  the  easterners 
passed  the  starting-point  alone. 

"Why,  Caspar!  Why,  Kitty!"  shouted  Abel 
reprovingly.     *'  How  's  this  ?  " 

"  Maybe  they  don't  understand  what  's  meant," 
suggested  somebody. 


The  Harvesting.  179 

Seemingly,  they  did  not.  For  neither  at  the  third 
round  did  they  appear  in  leading.  On  the  contrary, 
they  had  started  off  at  a  right  angle,  straight  across 
the  prairie ;  but  now  so  fast  they  rode,  and  so  un- 
erringly, that  long  before  their  deserted  friends  had 
ceased  to  stare  and  wonder  they  had  passed  out  of 
sight. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

ONCE   MORE   IN   THE   OLD    HOME. 

WE  can  rest  a  little  now,  Kit.  We  are  so  far 
away  that  nobody  could  catch  us  if  they 
tried.  They  won't  try,  any  way,  I  guess.  They  '11 
think  we  '11  go  back." 

"  Did  n't  the  horses  do  finely,  Caspar!  I  never 
rode  like  that,  I  guess.  Where  are  we  going  ? 
What  did  you  mean  about  saving  Wahneenah's 
life  ?     Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  Don't  ask  so  many  questions.  I  've  got  to 
think.  I  've  got  to  think  very  hard.  I  'm  the  man 
of  our  family,  you  know,  Sun  Maid.  Wahneenah 
and  you  are  my  women." 

"Oh!  indeed!"  said  the  girl,  moving  a  little 
nearer  her  foster-brother  on  the  grassy  hillock  where 
they  had  slipped  from  their  saddles,  to  rest  both 
themselves  and  the  beasts. 

You  see:  we  've  all  run  away." 

"  Pooh!  That  's  nothing.  I  've  always  been 
running  away.  Black  Partridge  said  I  began  life 
that  way." 

"  You  're  about  ten  years  old.  Kit.  You  're  big 
enough  to  be  getting  womanly." 


Once  More  in  the  Old  Home.  i8i 

"  Father  Abel  said  I  was.  I  can  sew  quite  well. 
If  I  'm  very,  very  good,  I  'm  to  be  let  stitch  a  dickey 
all  alone,  two  threads  at  a  time,  for  him.  Mercy 
said  so." 

"  Do  you  like  stitching  shirts  for  that  old  man  ?  " 

"  No.     I  hate  it." 

"  Poor  little  Sun  Maid.  You  were  made  to  be 
happy,  and  do  nothing  but  what  you  like  all  day 
long.  Well,  I  '11  be  a  man  some  day,  and  build  a 
cabin  of  my  own  for  you  and  Wahneenah." 

That  will  be  nice.  Though  I  '11  be  of  some  use 
some  way,  even  if  I  don't  like  sewing.  Where  shall 
we  go  when  we  get  rested,  boy  ?  " 

"  To  the  Fort." 
The — Fort!     I  thought  it  was  all  burned  up." 

"  There  is  a  new  one  on  the  same  old  ground.  It 
is  our  real  home,  you  know.  We  will  be  refugees. 
When  we  meet  Wahneenah,  we  '11  go  and  claim 
protection." 

Oh  !  Caspar,  where  is  she  ?  I  want  her  terribly. 
I  am  afraid  something  will  happen  to  her." 

In  his  heart  the  lad  was,  also,  greatly  alarmed; 
but  he  felt  it  unwise  to  show  this.  So  he  answered, 
airily : 

"  Oh  !  she  's  on,  a  piece.  I  pointed  her  the  road, 
and  told  her  where  to  meet  us.  At  the  top  of  the 
sandhills,  this  side  the  Fort." 

"  The  sandhills!    That  dreadful  place.     You  must 


I82 


The  Sun  Maid. 


be  getting  a  real  '  brave,'  Caspar  boy,  if  you  don't 
mind  going  there  again.     I  've  heard  you  talk — " 

"  I  don't  want  to  talk  even  now,  Kit.  But  I  had 
to  have  some  spot  we  both  knew,  where  we  could 
meet,  and  we  chose  that.  I  expect  she  '11  be  there 
waiting,  and  as  soon  as  the  horses  get  cooled  a  little, 
and  we  do,  we  '11  go  on." 

"  I  'm  hungry.  I  wish  we  had  brought  some- 
thing to  eat." 

"I  did.  It  's  here  in  my  blouse.  I  noticed  at 
the  dinner  that  you  did  more  serving  than  eating. 
There  's  water  yonder,  too ;  in  that  clump  of  bushes 
must  be  a  spring,"  and  the  prairie-wise  lad  was 
right. 

The  supper  he  produced  was  an  indiscriminate 
mixture  of  meats  and  sweets  and,  had  Kitty  not 
been  so  really  in  need  of  food  she  would  have  dis- 
dained what  she  promptly  pronounced  "a  mess." 
But  she  ate  it  and  felt  rested  by  it ;  so  that  she  be- 
gan to  remember  things  she  had  scarcely  noticed 
earlier  in  the  day. 

"  Caspar,  Wahneenah  must  have  known  about 
this  —  this  money  being  offered  for  her  and  other 
Indians.  She  had  taken  everything  out  of  her 
wigwam.  I  thought  she  was  terribly  grave  this 
morning,  and  she  kept  looking  at  me  all  the  time. 
Do  you  think  she  knew  she  was  going  to  run 
away  as  she  was  ? ' ' 


Once  More  in  the  Old  Home.  183 

"  Course.     She  's  known  it  some  days." 

"  And  did  n't  tell  me!  " 

"  She  could  n't,  because  she  loves  you  so.  She 
would  n't  do  a  thing  to  put  you  in  danger.  So  I 
thought  the  matter  over,  and  I  tell  you  I  've  just 
taken  the  business  right  out  their  hands.  I  was 
tired,  any  way.  I  'm  glad  we  came.  I  'm  almost 
a  man.  Kit;  and  I  won't  be  scolded  by  any  woman 
as  Mercy  has  scolded  me.  And  when  I  found  Abel 
was  getting  stingy,  too,  and  claiming  our  horses  for 
their  keep,  when  they  've  really  just  kept  themselves 
out  on  the  prairie,  or  anywhere  it  happened,  I — " 

"  Boy,  you  talk  too  fast.  I  —  I  don't  feel  as  if  I 
was  glad.  Except  when  I  remember  Other  Mother. 
They  were  horrid,  horrid  about  her.  I  hate  them 
for  that,  though  I  love  them  for  other  things.  I 
wonder  what  Mother  Mercy  will  say  when  we  don't 
come  home!  " 

"  She  '11  have  a  chance  to  say  a  lot  of  things  be- 
fore we  do,  I  guess.  Well,  we  '11  be  going.  I 
would  n't  like  to  miss  Wahneenah,  and  I  don't  know 
but  they  close  the  Fort  gates  at  night." 

"  Did  she  ride  Chestnut  ?  " 

"  Course.     What  a  lot  of  questions  you  ask!  " 

The  Sun  Maid  looked  into  the  boy's  face.  It  was 
too  troubled  for  her  comfort,  and  she  exclaimed : 

"  Caspar  Keith!  There  's  more  to  be  told  than 
you  've  told  me.   What  is  it  you  are  keeping  back  ?  " 


i84  The  Sun  Maid. 

"I  —  I  wonder  if  you  can  understand,  if  I  do  tell 
you  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  can  understand  a  good  many  things. 
One  is:  you  are  making  me  feel  very  unhappy." 

"  Well,  then,  I  'm  going  to  take  Wahneenah  to 
the  Fort,  and  give  her  up  myself!  " 

They  had  remounted  their  horses,  and  were  pacing 
leisurely  along  toward  the  rendezvous,  keeping  a 
sharp  lookout  for  the  Indian  woman ;  but  at  this 
startling  statement  the  Sun  Maid  reined  up  short, 
and  demanded : 

' '  What  —  do  —  you  —  mean  ? ' ' 

"  Just  exactly  what  I  say.  I  'm  going  to  give 
her  up  and  get  the  money." 

Kitty  could  not  speak;  and  with  a  perplexity  that 
was  not  at  all  comfortable  to  himself,  the  lad  re- 
turned her  astonished  gaze. 

"  Then — you — are — just — as — mean — as — Mercy 
—Smith!  " 

"  I  am  not  mean  at  all !  Don't  you  say  it.  Don't 
you  understand  ?  I  do — or  I  thought  I  did.  It  's 
this  way.  She  can't  be  given  up  but  once,  can  she  ? 
Well,  I  '11  do  it,  instead  of  an  enemy." 

"You  —  wicked  —  boy!  I  can't  believe  it!  I 
won't!     You  shall  not  do  it;  never! 

"  Oh,  don't  be  silly!  Of  course,  I  '11  not  keep 
the  money.  I  '11  give  it  right  back  to  her.  Then 
she  can   do  what  she  likes  with   it  —  make  a   nice 


Once  More  in  the  Old  Home.  185 

new  wigwam  near  the  Fort,  and  she  can  get  lots  of 
skins,  or  even  canvas,  there.     Come,  let  's  ride  on." 

But  there  was  a  silence  between  them  for  some 
time,  and  the  scheme  that  had  seemed  so  brilliant, 
when  it  had  originated  in  Caspar's  mind,  began  to 
lose  something  of  its  glitter  under  the  clear  question- 
ing gaze  of  the  Sun  Maid. 

It  was  fast  falling  twilight  when  they  came  to  the 
sandhills;  and  though,  by  all  reckoning,  Wahneenah 
should  have  been  long  awaiting  them  there  was  no 
sign  of  the  familiar  Chestnut  or  its  beloved  rider. 

Caspar,  will  Wahneenah  understand  it  ?  Will 
she  believe  it  is  right  for  you  to  do  what  is  wrong 
for  another  to  do  ?  Will  the  soldier  men  pay  you — 
just  a  boy,  so — the  money,  real  money,  for  her,  any- 
way ?  ' ' 

Caspar  lost  his  patience,  with  which  he  was  not 
greatly  blessed. 

Kit,  I  wish  you  would  n't  keep  thinking  of 
things.  I  did  n't  tell  Other  Mother,  of  course.  She 
might — she  might  not  have  been  pleased.  I  acted 
for  the  best.  That  's  the  way  men  always  have  to 
do." 

The  argument  was  not  as  convincing  to  the  Sun 
Maid  as  she  herself  would  have  liked  ;  but  she  trusted 
Caspar,  and  tried  to  put  the  money  question  aside, 
while  she  strained  her  eyes  to  search  the  darkening 
landscape  for  the  missing  one. 


i86  The  Sun  Maid. 

But  there  was  no  trace  of  her  anywhere ;  even 
though  Caspar  dismounted  and  scanned  the  sward 
for  fresh  tracks,  as  his  Indian  friends  had  taught 
him ;  and  when,  at  length,  he  felt  compelled  to 
hasten  to  the  Fort  and  seek  its  shelter  for  the  Sun 
Maid,  his  young  heart  was  heavy  with  foreboding. 
However,  he  put  the  cheerful  side  of  the  subject 
before  the  little  girl,  observing: 

"It  's  the  very  easiest  thing  in  the  world  for 
people  to  make  mistakes  'in  meeting  this  way. 
What  seems  a  certain  point  to  one  person  may  look 
very  different  to  another.     I  've  noticed  that." 

"  Oh!  you  have!  "  commented  Kitty.  "  I  think 
you  've  noticed  almost  too  much,  Caspar.  I  —  I 
think  it  's  awful  lonely  out  here,  and  I  don't  believe 
Abel  would  have  let  anybody  hurt  Wahneenah,  even 
if  Mercy  would.     And — I  want  her,  I  want  her!  " 

"  Sun  Maid !     Are  you  afraid  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  not.  Not  for  myself.  But  if  some 
of  those  dreadful  white  people  whom  Wahneenah 
thought  were  her  friends  should  overtake  her  on 
their  way  home,  and  —  and  —  take  her  prisoner !  I 
can't  have  it, — I  must  go  back,  and  search  again  and 
again." 

Sing,  Kit!  If  she  *s  anywhere  within  hearing, 
she  '11  come  at  the  sound  of  your  voice.  Sing  your 
loudest!  " 

Obediently,  the  Sun  Maid  lifted  her  clear  voice 


Once  More  in  the  Old  Home.  187 

and  sang,  at  the  beginning  with  vigor  and  hope  in 
the  notes,  but  at  the  end  with  a  sorrowful  trembling 
and  pathos  that  made  Caspar's  heart  ache.  So,  to 
still  his  own  misgivings,  he  commanded  her,  also,  to 
be  silent. 

"  It  's  no  use,  girlie.  She  's  out  of  hearing  some- 
where. Maybe  she  has  gone  to  the  Fort  already. 
Any  way,  it  *s  getting  very  dark,  and  the  clouds  are 
awful  heavy.  I  believe  there  's  a  thunder-shower 
coming,  and  if  it  does,  it  will  be  a  bad  one.  They 
always  are  worse,  Mercy  says,  when  they  come  this 
time  of  year.  We  would  better  hurry  on  to  shelter 
ourselves.  If  she  is  n't  there,  we  can  look  for  her  in 
the  morning." 

"  I  like  a  thunder-storm.  I  believe  it  would  be  fine 
to  go  under  that  clump  of  trees  yonder  and  watch  it. 
I  have  to  go  to  bed  so  early,  always,  that  I  think  it 
is  just  grand  to  be  up  late  and  out-of-doors,  too." 

"  You  are  not  afraid  of  anything,  Kitty  Briscoe! 
I  never  saw  a  girl  like  you!"  cried  the  lad,  re- 
proachfully. 

"  But  you  don't  know  other  girls,  boy.  Maybe 
they  are  not  afraid,  either.  I  can't  help  it  if  I  'm 
not,  can  I  ?  " 

Caspar  laughed.  "  I  guess  I  'm  cross,  child, 
that  's  all.  Of  course  I  would  n't  want  you  to  be 
a  scared  thing.  But,  let  's  hurry.  The  later  we  get 
there  the  more  trouble  we  may  have  to  get  in." 


i88  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  Why — will  there  be  trouble  ?  If  there  is,  let  's 
go  home." 

"  We  can't  go  home.  We  've  run  away,  you 
know.  Besides,  there  would  be  the  same  anxiety 
about  Wahneenah.     All  's  left  for  us  is  to  go  on." 

So  the  Sun  Maid  settled  herself  firmly  in  her 
saddle  and  followed  Tempest's  rather  reckless  pace 
forward  into  the  darkness.  Memory  made  the  dim 
road  familiar  to  Caspar,  and  soon  the  garrison  lights 
came  into  sight. 

But  martial  law  is  strict  and  the  gates  had  been 
closed  for  the  night,  as  the  lad  had  feared.  The 
sentinel  on  duty  did  not  respond  to  his  first  sum- 
mons with  the  promptness  which  the  boy  desired, 
so,  springing  to  his  feet  upon  the  gelding's  back,  he 
shouted,  over  the  stockade : 

Entrance  for  two  citizens  of  the  United  States! 
In  the  name  of  its  President!  " 

Ugh.     There  is  no  need  for  such  a  noise,  pale- 
face." 

These  words  fell  so  suddenly  upon  Caspar's  ears 
that  he  nearly  tumbled  backward  from  his  perch. 
He  was  further  amazed  to  see  the  Sun  Maid  leap 
from  her  horse,  straight  through  the  gloom  into  the 
arms  of  a  tall  Indian  who  seemed  to  have  risen  out 
of  the  ground  beside  them. 

In  fact,  he  had  merely  stepped  from  a  canoe  at 
the  foot  of  the  path  and  his  moccasined  feet  had 


CASPAR    AND    KITTY    REACH    THE    FORT. 


Page  iSS. 


Once  More  in  the  Old  Home.  189 

made  no  sound  upon  the  sward  as  he  approached. 
He  received  the  girl's  eager  spring  with  grave  dig- 
nity, and  immediately  replaced  her  upon  the  Snow- 
bird's back. 

"  Why,  Black  Partridge  !  Don't  you  know  me  ? 
Are  n't  you  glad  to  see  me  ?  Four  years  since 
we  said  good-by,  that  day  at  poor  Muck-otey- 
pokee. " 

"  I  remember  all  things.  Why  is  the  Sun  Maid 
here,  at  this  hour  ?  " 

Gaspar  had  recovered  himself  and  now  broke  into 
a  torrent  of  explanation,  which  the  chief  quietly 
interrupted  as  soon  as  he  had  gathered  the  facts  of 
the  case. 

"  But  don't  you  think,  dear  Feather-man,  that 
our  Wahneenah  will  soon  come  ?  "  demanded  Kitty, 
anxiously. 

"  The  gates  are  open.  Let  us  enter,"  he  an- 
swered evasively;  and  the  novelty  of  her  surround- 
ings so  promptly  engrossed  the  girl's  mind  that  she 
forgot  to  question  him  further  then.  Somewhere 
on  the  dimly  lighted  campus  a  bugle  was  sounding; 
and  it  awakened  sleeping  memories  of  her  earliest 
childhood.  So  did  the  regular  "  step-step  "  of 
soldiers  relieving  guard.  A  new  and  delightful 
sense  of  safety  and  familiarity  thrilled  her  heart,  and 
she  exclaimed,  joyfully: 

"  Oh,  Gaspar!  it  is  home!  it  is  home!     More  than 


IQO  The  Sun  Maid. 

the  cabin,  more  than  Other  Mother's  tepee,  this  is 
home!  " 

I  hope  it  will  prove  so." 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  will  find  any  of  the  dear 
white  '  mothers  '  who  were  so  good  to  me  ?  Or 
Bugler  Jim,  who  used  to  play  me  to  sleep  under  the 
trees  in  the  corner  ?  I  wish  it  was  n't  so  dark.  I 
wish — " 

"  It 's  all  new.  Kit.  They  are  all  strangers.  The 
rest,  you  know — well,  none  of  them  are  here.  But 
these  will  be  kind,  no  doubt.  Yet  to  me,  even  in  this 
dark,  it  seems  —  it  seems  horrible!  It  all  comes 
back:  that  morning  when  I  first  rode  Tempest. 
The  massacre — " 

The  tone  of  his  voice  startled  her,  and  she  begged 
at  once: 

"  Let  us  go  right  away  again.  I  am  not  afraid  of 
the  storm,  nor  the  darkness,  and  nothing  can  harm  us 
if  we  pray  to  be  taken  care  of.  The  Great  Spirit 
always  hears.     Let  us  go." 

"  It  is  too  late.  It  *s  beginning  to  rain  and  that 
man  is  ordering  us  to  dismount,  that  he  may  put  the 
horses  in  the  stables.     Jump  down." 

There  were  always  some  refugees  at  the  Fort. 
Just  then  there  were  more  than  ordinary;  or,  if  all 
were  not  such,  there  were  many  passing  travellers, 
journeying  in  emigrant  trains  toward  the  unsettled 
west,  to  make  their  hew  homes  there,  and  these  used 


Once  More  in  the  Old  Home.  191 

"  Uncle  Sam's  tavern  "  as  an  inn  of  rest  and  re- 
freshment. 

Amid  so  many,  therefore,  small  attention  was 
paid  to  the  arrival  of  these  two  young  people.  They 
were  furnished  with  a  plain,  supper,  in  the  main 
living  room  of  the  building  which  seemed  a  big  and 
dreary  place,  and  immediately  afterward  were  dis- 
missed to  bed.  Kitty  was  assigned  a  cot  among 
the  women  guests  and  Gaspar  slept  in  the  men's 
quarters. 

But  neither  had  very  comfortable  thoughts,  and 
the  talk  of  her  dormitory  neighbors  kept  the  Sun 
Maid  long  awake.  Here,  as  in  Mercy's  cabin,  the 
dominant  subject  was  the  reward  offered  for  the 
capture  of  the  Indians,  and  a  fresh  fear  set  her  trem- 
bling as  one  indignant  matron  exclaimed: 

"  There  's  one  of  those  pesky  red-skins  in  this 
very  Fort  this  night.  He  came  with  that  girl 
yonder,  but  I  hope  he  won't  be  let  to  get  away 
as  easy.  The  country  is  overrun  with  the  Indians, 
and  is  no  place  for  decent  white  folks.  They  out- 
number us  ten  to  one.  That  's  why  I  've  got  my 
husband  to  sell  out.  We  're  on  our  way  back  East, 
to  civilization." 

Well,  if  one  's  come  here  to-night,  I  reckon 
he  '11  be  taken  care  of!  Massacres  are  more  plenty 
than  money,  and  some  man  or  other  '11  make  out  to 
claim  the  prize.     What  sort  of  Indian  was  he  ?  " 


192  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  Oh,  Hke  them  all.  All  paint  and  feather  and 
wickedness.  I  wish  somebody  'd  take  and  hang 
him  to  the  sally-port,  just  for  an  example." 

This  was  too  much  for  loyal  Kitty  Briscoe.  She 
could  no  more  help  springing  up  in  defence  of  her 
friends  than  she  could  help  breathing. 

"You  women  must  not  talk  like  that!  There 
are  good  Indians,  and  they  are  the  best  people  in 
the  world.  They  won't  hurt  anybody  who  lets 
them  alone.  That  Indian  you  're  talking  against  is 
the  Black  Partridge.  He  is  splendid.  He  is  my 
very  oldest  friend,  except  Caspar.  He  would  n't 
hurt  a  fly,  and  he  'd  help  everybody  needed  help. 
It  's  this  horrible  offer  of  money  for  every  Indian 
caught  that  has  set  my  precious  Other  Mother 
wandering  over  the  country  this  dark  night,  and 
made  Caspar  and  me  homeless  runaways." 

There  was  instant  hubbub  in  the  room,  and  no 
more  desire  for  sleep  on  anybody's  part  until  Kitty 
had  been  made  to  tell  her  story,  the  story  of  her  life 
as  she  remembered  it,  over  and  over  again ;  and 
when  finally  slumber  overtook  her,  even  in  the 
midst  of  her  narrative,  her  dreams  were  filled  with 
visions  of  Wahneenah  fleeing  and  forever  pursued 
by  uniformed  soldiers  with  glistening  bayonets,  who 
fired  after  her  to  the  merry  sound  of  a  bugle  and 
drum. 

In  the  morning  she  found  Caspar  and  related  her 


Once  More  in  the  Old  Home.  193 

night's  experience.  He  received  it  gravely,  with- 
out the  sympathy  she  expected. 

"  Kit,  I  don't  understand.  What  you  said  was 
true,  and  right  enough  for  me  to  say.  But  it  's  not 
like  you  to  be  so  bold.  Yesterday,  you  were  saucy 
to  the  harvest-women  and  now  again  to  these.  Is 
it  because  you  are  growing  up  so  fast,  I  wonder? 
All  women  are  not  like  Other  Mother.  They  might 
get  angry  with  you,  and  punish  you.  If  I  should 
go—" 

"  If  what,  Caspar  Keith  ?  " 

"  Kitty,  I  cant  stay  Jure.  It  would  kill  me.  I 
must  get  out  into  the  open.  I  am  going  away. 
Right  away.  Now.  This  very  hour  even.  You 
must  be  brave,  and  understand." 

"  Go  away  ?  I,  too  ?  All  right.  Only  don't 
look  so  sober.  I  don't  care.  I  promised  to  go  any- 
where you  wished  and  I  will.      I  'm  ready." 

"  But — but —     It  's  only  I,  my  Kit.     Not  you." 

"  You  would  go  away,  and — leave  me  here  ?  Just 
because  you  don't  like  it  ?  " 

All  the  color  went  out  of  her  fair,  round  face,  and 
she  caught  his  head  between  her  hands,  and  turned 
it  so  that  she  could  look  into  his  dark  eyes,  which 
could  not  bear  to  look  into  her  own  startled  and  re- 
proachful ones. 

»3 


CHAPTER    XV. 

PARTINGS   AND    MEETINGS. 

CASPAR'S  courage  returned,  and  he  led  her  to 
a  sheltered  place  under  the  stockade,  where 
he  made  her  sit  beside  him  for  the  brief  time  that 
was  his. 

"  Not  all  because  I  do  not  like  it;  but  because  I 
am  almost  a  man  and  I  have  found  the  chance  of 
my  life.  There  is  one  here,  a  voyageiir,  with  his 
boat.  The  finest  vessel  I  ever  saw,  though  they  've 
not  been  so  many.  He  is  going  north  into  the  great 
woods;  will  sail  this  morning.  He  is  a  great  trader 
and  hunter  and  he  has  asked  me  to  apprentice  my- 
self to  him.  He  promises  he  will  make  my  fortune. 
He  has  taken  as  great  a  liking  to  me,  I  reckon,  as 
I  have  to  him.  We  shall  get  on  famously  together. 
In  that  broad,  free  life  I  shall  grow  a  full  man,  and 
soon.  I  can  earn  money,  and  make  a  home  for  you 
and  Wahneenah,  and  many  another  lonely,  helpless 
soul.  Yes,  I  must  go.  I  can't  let  the  chance  pass. 
And  you  must  be  brave,  and  the  Sun  Maid  still,  and 
forever.  I  shall  want  to  think  of  you  as  always 
bright  and  full  of  laughter.     Like   yourself.     But 


Partings  and  Meetings.  195 

you   are   not   like  yourself  now,   Girl-Child.     Why 
don't  you  speak  ?    Why  don't  you  say  something  ?  " 

"  I  guess  there  is  n't  any  '  say  '  left  in  me,  Gas- 
par,"  answered  the  girl,  in  a  tone  so  hopelessly  sad 
that  it  almost  made  the  lad  waver  in  his  determina- 
tion. Only  that  wavering  had  no  portion  in  the 
character  of  the  ambitious  youth,  and  he  looked  far 
forward  toward  a  great  good  beyond  the  present 
pain. 

When  the  day  was  well  advanced,  the  schooner 
sailed  away,  from  the  dock  at  the  foot  of  the  path 
from  fort  to  lake,  with  Gaspar  upon  her  deck,  trying 
to  look  more  brave  and  manly  than  he  really  felt. 
But  a  forlorn  little  maid  watched  with  eyes  that  shed 
no  tears,  and  a  pitiful  attempt  at  a  smile  upon  her 
quivering  lips  till  the  vessel  became  a  mere  speck, 
then  disappeared. 

After  a  long  while,  she  was  aroused  by  something 
again  moving  over  the  water. 

"  He  's  coming  back!  My  Gaspar's  coming 
back!  "  she  cried,  and  tossed  back  the  hair  which 
the  wind  blew  about  her  face  that  she  might  see  the 
clearer.  A  moment  later  her  disappointment  found 
words:  "  It  's  nothing  but  a  common  Indian 
canoe!  " 

However,  she  remembered  her  foster-brother  had 
set  her  a  task  to  do.  She  must  begin  it  right  away. 
She  was  to   be   as  helpful  to   everybody   she  ever 


196  The  Sun  Maid. 

should  meet  as  it  was  possible.  Here  might  be  one 
coming  who  had  n't  heard  about  that  dreadful  fifty- 
dollar  prize  money.  She  must  call  out  and  warn 
him.  So  she  did,  and  never  had  human  voice 
sounded  pleasanter  to  any  wayfarer.  But  her  own 
intentness  discovered  something  familiar  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  young  brave,  paddling  so  cautiously 
toward  her  and  keeping  so  well  to  the  shore.  She 
began  to  question  herself  where  she  had  seen  him, 
and  in  a  flash  she  remembered.  Then,  indeed,  did 
she  shout,  and  joyfully: 

"  Osceolo!  Osceolo!  Don't  you  know  me? 
Kitty  ?  The  Sun  Maid  ?  The  daughter  of  your 
own  tribe  ?     Osceolo!  " 

"  By  the  moccasins  of  my  grandfather!  You 
here  ?  How  ?  When  ?  No  matter.  The  brother 
of  the  Sun  Maid  rejoices.  Never  a  friend  so  con- 
venient. Run  around  to  the  edge  of  the  wharf. 
There  must  be  talk  between  us,  and  at  once." 

He  pushed  his  little  boat  close  under  the  shadow 
of  the  pier  that  had  long  since  been  deserted  of 
those  who  had  come  down  to  watch,  as  Kitty  had 
done,  the  sailing  of  the  northern-bound  schooner. 
There  was  none  to  hear  them,  yet  Osceolo  chose  to 
mufifle  his  tones  and  to  make  himself  mysterious. 
In  truth,  he  was  fleeing  from  justice,  having  been 
mixed  up  in  a  raid  upon  a  settler's  homestead  a 
few  miles  back;   in   which,   fortunately,    there   had 


Partings  and  Meetings.  197 

been  no  bloodshed,  though  a  deal  of  thieving  and 
other  dirty  work  which  would  make  it  uncomfort- 
able for  the  young  warrior  should  he  be  caught  just 
then.  The  story  he  was  prepared  to  tell  was  true 
as  far  as  it  went;  and  the  Sun  Maid  was  too  inno- 
cent to  suspect  guile  in  others.  She  thought  he 
was  referring  to  the  prize  money  when  he  spoke  of 
quite  other  matters;  and  after  the  briefest  inquiry 
and  answer  as  to  what  had  befallen  either  since 
their  parting  at  doomed  Muck-otey-pokee,  he 
concluded: 

"  Now,  Sister-of-my-Heart,  Blood-daughter-of- 
my-Chief,  you  must  help  me.  You  must  give  me, 
or  lend  me,  a  horse;  and  you  must  bring  me  food. 
Then  I  will  ride  to  fetch  you  back  Wahneenah." 

"  Oh!  You  know  where  she  is  ?  Can  you  do  it 
and  not  be  taken  ?  " 

"  Is  not  the  Brother  of  the  Sun  Maid  now  become 
a  mighty  warrior  ?  " 

"  You — you  don't  look  so  very  mighty,"  returned 
the  girl,  truthfully. 

Osceolo  frowned.  "  That  is  as  one  sees.  Fetch 
me  the  horse  and  the  meat,  if  you  would  have  your 
Other  Mother  restored." 

"  I  will.  I  will!  "  she  cried,  and  ran  back  to  the 
Fort.  She  went  first  to  the  kitchen,  and  begged  a 
meal  "  for  a  stranger  that  's  just  come,"  and  the 
food    was  given   her  without   question.     Strangers 


198  The  Sun  Maid. 

were  always  coming  to  be  fed ;  herself,  also,  no 
longer  ago  than  the  last  evening. 

From  the  kitchen  to  the  stables,  where  a  bright 
thought  came  to  her.  She  would  lead  the  Tempest 
to  Osceolo,  and  herself  ride  the  Snowbird.  Together 
they  would  go  to  find  Wahneenah, 

"  The  black  gelding  ?  "  asked  the  soldier  of  whom 
she  sought  assistance.  "  The  hostler  can  maybe  tell 
you.  But  I  think  the  Black  Partridge  rode  away  on 
him  before  daybreak." 

"The  Black  Partridge!  Oh!  I  had  forgotten 
him  in  my  trouble  about  Caspar.  Did  any  harm 
come  to  him,  sir  ?  " 

"  No.  What  harm  should  ?  If  every  red-skin  in 
Illinois  was  like  him  there  'd  be  little  need  of  us 
fellows  out  here  in  this  mud-hole.  But  you  look  dis- 
appointed. If  you  want  to  take  a  ride,  there  's  the 
white  mare  you  came  on.  But  you  'd  better  not  go 
far  away.     It  is  n't  safe  for  a  child  like  you." 

"I'm  not  afraid,  but —  Well,  if  Tempest 's  gone, 
I  can't.     That  's  all." 

So  the  Snowbird  was  brought  out,  and  she  led  the 
pretty  creature  away  behind  the  shelter  of  the  few 
trees  which  hid  the  spot  v/here  Osceolo  had  bade 
her  meet  him. 

"  I  tried  to  get  Tempest  for  you,  but  the  Chief 
has  ridden  him  away.  I  meant  to  go  with  you. 
But  you    '11   have   to   go   alone.       Tell   my   darling 


Partings  and  Meetings.  199 

Other  Mother  that  I  am  here,  and  waiting.  Tell 
her  about  Caspar,  and  that  he  said  he  had  found 
out  she  would  be  quite  safe  here.  Why,  so,  I  sup- 
pose, would  you.      I  did  n't  think." 

"  No,  I  should  n't,"  returned  the  young  Indian 
hastily.     Then,  noting  her  surprise,  explained  : 

"  I  'm  a  warrior,  you  see.  That  makes  a  differ- 
ence." 

"  It  will  be  all  right,  though,  I  think.  And  if 
you  cannot  come  back  with  Wahneenah,  do  hurry 
and  send  her  by  herself.     Will  you  ?  " 

Oh,  I  '11  hurry  !  "  answered  the  youth,  eva- 
sively, and  leaped  to  the  Snowbird's  back.  The 
food  he  had  stuffed  within  his  shirt  till  a  more  con- 
venient season,  and  with  a  cry  that  even  to  Kitty's 
trusting  ears  sounded  in  some  way  derisive,  he  was 
off  out  of  sight  along  the  lakeside. 

As  the  Snowbird  disappeared,  Kitty  felt  that  the 
last  link  between  herself  and  her  friends  had  been 
severed,  and  for  a  moment  the  tears  had  sway. 
Then,  ashamed  of  her  own  weakness  and  remember- 
ing her  promise  to  Gaspar  that  she  would  be  "  just 
the  sunniest  kind  of  a  girl,  and  true  to  her  name," 
she  brushed  them  away  and  entered  the  busy  Fort, 
to  proffer  her  services  to  the  women  in  charge. 

These  had  already  learned  her  story  and  had 
reprimanded  her  for  running  away  from  her  pro- 
tectors, the  Smiths;  but  it  was  nobody's  business 


200  The  Sun  Maid. 

to  return  her  and,  meanwhile,  she  was  safe  at  the 
Fort  until  they  should  choose  to  call  for  her. 

"  Well,  there  is  always  plenty  of  work  in  the 
world  for  the  hands  that  will  do  it,"  said  an  officer's 
wife,  with  a  kindly  smile.  "  You  seem  too  small 
to  be  of  much  practical  use;  but,  however,  if  you 
want  a  task,  there  are  some  little  fellows  yonder 
who  need  amusing  and  comforting.  Their  mother 
has  died  of  a  fever,  and  their  father  is  more  of  a  stu- 
dent and  preacher  than  a  nurse.  I  guess  his  wife 
was  the  ruling  spirit  in  the  household,  and  now 
that  she  has  left  him,  he  is  sadly  unsettled.  He 
does  n't  know  whether  to  go  on  and  take  up  the 
claim  he  expected  or  not.  He  and  you,  and  the 
oddly-named  little  sons,  may  all  yet  have  to  become 
wards  of  the  Government." 

"  I  'm  very  sorry  for  him." 

"  You  well  may  be.  Yet  he  's  a  gentle,  blessed 
old  man.  No  more  fit  to  marry  and  bring  that  flock 
of  youngsters  out  here  into  the  wilderness  than  I  am 
to  command  an  army.  She  was  much  younger  than 
he,  and  felt  the  necessity  of  doing  something  toward 
providing  for  their  children  and  educating  them. 
But  the  more  I  talk,  the  more  I  puzzle  you.  Run 
along  and  lend  them  a  hand.  The  very  smallest 
Littlejohn  of  the  lot  has  filled  his  mouth  with  dirt, 
and  is  trying  to  squall  it  out.  See  if  a  drink  of 
water  won't  mend  matters." 


Partings  and  Meetings.  201 

Kitty  hastened  to  the  child,  and  begged: 
My  dear,  don't  cry  like  that.     You  are  disturb- 
ing the  people." 

"  Don't  care.     I  ain't  my  dear;  I  'm  Four." 

"  You  're  what  ?  " 

"  Just  Four.  Four  Littlejohns.  What  pretty 
hair  you  've  got.     May  I  pull  it  ?  " 

"  I  'd  rather  not.  Unless  it  will  make  you  forget 
the  dirt  you  ate." 

But  the  permission  given,  the  child  became  in- 
different to  it.  He  pointed  to  three  other  lads 
crouching  against  the  doorstep,  and  explained : 

They  're  One,  Two,  and  Three.  My  father,  he 
says  it  saves  trouble.  Some  folks  laugh  at  us. 
They  say  it  's  funny  to  be  named  that  way.  I  was 
eating  the  dirt  because  I  was  —  I  was  mad." 

"  Indeed!     At  whom  ?  " 

"  At  everybody.  I  'm  just  mis'able.  I  don't 
care  to  live  no  longer." 

The  round,  dimpled  face  was  so  exceedingly 
wholesome  and  happy,  despite  its  transient  doleful- 
ness,  that  Kitty  laughed  and  her  merriment  brought 
an  answering  smile  to  the  four  dusty  countenances 
before  her. 

"  Wull — wull — I  is.  My  father,  he  's  mis'able, 
too.  So,  course,  we  have  to  be.  He  's  a  minister 
man.  He  can't  tell  stories.  He  just  tells  true  ones 
out  the  Bible.     Can  you  tell  Bible  stories  ? ' ' 


202  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  No.  I — I  'm  afraid  I  don't  know  much  about 
that  book.  Mercy  had  one,  but  she  kept  it  in  the 
drawer.  She  took  it  out  on  Sundays,  though.  She 
did  n't  let  Caspar  nor  me  touch  it.  She  said  we 
might  spoil  the  cover.  That  was  red.  It  was  a  re- 
ward of  merit  when  she  was  a  girl.  It  had  clasps, 
and  was  very  beautiful.  It  had  pictures  in  it,  too, 
about  saints  and  dead  folks;  but  I  never  read  it.  I 
could  n't  read  it  if  I  tried,  you  know,  because  I  've 
never  been  taught." 

This  was  amazing  to  the  four  book-crammed  small 
Littlejohns.     One  exclaimed,  with  superior  disgust : 

"  Such  a  great  big  girl,  and  can't  read  your  Bible ! 
You  must  be  a  heathen,  and  bow  down  to  wood  and 
stone." 

"  Maybe  I  am.  I  don't  remember  bowing  down 
to  anything,  except  when  I  say  my  prayers." 

' '  Your  prayers !  Then  you  can't  be  a  real  heathen. 
Heathefis  don't  say  prayers,  not  our  kind.  Hmm. 
What  lovely  eyes  you  've  got  and  how  pretty  you 
are !  All  the  women  never  saw  such  wonderful  hair 
as  yours,  nor  the  men  either.  I  heard  them  say  so. 
If  I  had  a  sister,  I  'd  like  her  to  look  just  like  you. 
But  it  's  wicked  to  be  vain." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  you  funny  boy  ? " 

"  I  'm  not  funny.  I  'm  serious.  My  mother  — 
my  mother  said — my  mother —  Oh!  I  want  her!  I 
want  her!  " 


Partings  and  Meetings.  203 

Religion,  superiority,  priggishness,  all  flew  to  the 
winds  as  his  real  and  fresh  grief  overcame  him ;  and 
it  was  a  heart-broken  lad  that  hurled  himself  against 
the  shoulder  of  this  sympathetic-looking  girl  who, 
though  so  much  taller,  was  not  so  very  much  older 
than  he. 

The  Sun  Maid's  own  heart  echoed  the  cry  with  a 
keen  pain,  and  she  received  the  orphan's  outburst 
with  exceeding  tenderness.  Now,  whatever  One, 
the  eldest,  did  the  other  young  numerals  all  imi- 
tated, so  that  each  was  soon  weeping  copiously. 
Yet,  from  very  excess  of  energy,  their  grief  soon  ex- 
hausted itself  and  they  regarded  each  other  with 
some  curiosity.  Then  Three  began  to  smile,  in  a 
shamefaced  sort  of  way,  not  knowing  how  far  his 
recovery  of  composure  would  be  approved  by  sterner 
One. 

After  a  habit  familiar  to  him  the  latter  opened 
his  lips  to  reprove  but,  fortunately,  refrained,  as  he 
discovered  a  tall,  stoop-shouldered  man  crossing  the 
parade-ground. 

This  gentleman  seemed  oddly  out  of  place  amid 
that  company  of  immigrants  and  soldiers.  Student 
and  bookworm  was  written  all  over  his  fine,  intel- 
lectual countenance,  and  his  eyes  had  that  absent 
expression  that  had  made  the  commandant's  wife 
call  him  a  "  dreamer," 

His  bearing  impressed  the  Sun  Maid  with  reverent 


204  The  Sun  Maid. 

awe;  a  feeling  apparently  not  shared  by  his  sons. 
For  Three  ran  to  him  and  shook  him  violently,  to 
secure  attention,  as  he  eagerly  exclaimed : 

Oh,  father!  We  've  found  one  of  'em  already! 
A  heathen.  Or,  any  way,  a  heatheny  sort  of  a  girl, 
but  not  Indian.  She  does  n't  know  how  to  read, 
and  she  has  n't  any  Bible.  Come  and  give  her  one 
and  teach  her  quick!  " 

"  Eh  ?    What  ?    A  heathen  ?     My  child,  where  ? " 
Right  there  with  my  brothers.     That  yellow- 
headed  girl.     She  's  nice.     Are  all  the  heathen  as 
pretty  as  she  is  ?  " 

My  son,  that  young  person  ?  Surely,  you  are 
mistaken.  She  must  be  the  daughter  of  some  resi- 
dent at  the  Fort,  or  of  some  traveller  like  ourselves." 

"  I  don't  believe  she  is.  She  's  been  taking  care 
of  herself  all  day.  I  have  n't  heard  anybody  tell 
her  '  Don't  '  once.  If  she  belonged  to  folk  they  'd 
do  it  would  n't  they  ?  " 

"  Very  likely.  Parents  have  to  discipline  their 
young.  Don't  drag  me  so.  I  'm  walking  fast 
enough." 

"  That  's  what  I  say,  father.     '  Don't  '  shows  I 

belong  to  you.     But  I  do  wish  you  'd  come.     She 

might  get  away  before  you  could  catch  her." 

Catch  her.  Three  ?     I  don't  understand." 

I  know  it.     My  mother  used  to  say  you  never 

did    understand    plain    every-day    things.     That   's 


Partings  and  Meetings.  205 

why  she  had  to  take  care  of  you  the  same  as  us. 
Oh!  I  wish  we  'd  never  come  to  this  horrid  place." 

The  reference  to  his  wife  and  the  child's  grief 
roused  the  clergyman  more  completely  than  even 
an  appeal  for  the  heathen.  Laying  his  thin  hand 
tenderly  upon  the  small  rumpled  head,  he  stroked 
it  as  he  answered  : 

"  In  my  flesh  I  echo  that  wish,  laddie;  but  in  my 
spirit  I  am  resigned  to  whatever  the  Lord  sends.  If 
there  is  a  heathen  here,  there  is  His  work  to  do, 
and  in  that  I  can  forget  my  own  distress.  I  will 
walk  faster  if  you  wish." 

The  other  small  Littlejohns,  with  Kitty,  now 
joined  their  father  and  Three,  the  girl  regarding  him 
with  some  curiosity,  for  he  was  of  a  stamp  quite 
different  from  any  person  she  had  ever  seen.  But 
he  won  her  instant  love  as,  holding  out  his  hands  in 
welcome,  he  exclaimed : 

"  Why,  my  daughter  !  Surely  the  lads  were  jest- 
ing. You  look  neither  ignorant  nor  heathen,  and 
in  personal  gifts  the  Lord  has  been  most  kind  to 
you." 

"  Has  He  ?     But  I  am  rather  lonely  now." 

"  And  so  am  I.  Therefore,  we  will  be  the  better 
friends.  Why,  sons,  this  is  just  what  we  need  to 
make  our  group  complete.  Maybe,  lassie,  your 
parents  will  spare  you  to  us,  now  and  then." 

I  have  no  parents.     I  am  award  of  Government, 


2o6  The  Sun  Maid. 

though  I  don't  understand  it.  I  wish — are  you  too 
busy  to  hear  my  story,  and  will  you  advise  me  ? 
Caspar  told  me  some  things,  but  he  's  not  old  and 
wise  like  you,  dear  sir." 

"  Old  I  am,  indeed,  but  far  from  wise.  Though, 
so  well  as  I  know  I  will  most  gladly  counsel  you. 
Let  us  go  yonder,  to  that  shady  place  beside  the 
great  wall,  where  there  are  benches  to  rest  on  and 
quiet  to  listen  in." 

Now  small  Four  Littlejohns  had  heard  a  deal 
about  heathen.  They  had  been  the  dearest  theme 
of  all  the  stories  told  him,  and  he  caught  his  father's 
hand  with  a  detaining  grasp: 

She  might  eat  you  all  up,  father!  " 
Boy,  what  are  you  saying  ?  " 

"  She  is  n't  like  the  picture  in  my  story-book  of 
the  heathen  that  lived  in  India,  and  all  the  people 
worshipped,  that  was  named  a  god.  One  told  me 
when  I  asked  him  ;  but  I  guess  heathens  can  change 
like  fairies;  and,  please  don't  go,  father,  don't!  " 

Nonsense,  Four.     What  trash  are  you  talking  ? 
It  is  you  who  are  the  heathen  now." 

"  I,  father  ?     /./ " 

In  horror  of  a  possible  change  in  his  person,  the 
child  began  to  feel  of  his  plump  face  and  pinch  his 
fat  body.  He  even  imagined  he  was  stiffening  all 
over.  Suddenly,  he  drew  his  wide  mouth  into  a  gro- 
tesque imitation  of  the  engraving  as  he  remembered 


Partings  and  Meetings.  207 

it,  planting  his  feet  firmly  and  setting  up  a  tragic- 
wail. 

"I  'm  not  like  him.  I  won't  be.  I  won't,  I 
won't,  I  won't !  " 

Kitty  understood  nothing  but  the  evident  distress, 
which  she  attempted  to  soothe  and  merely  aggra- 
vated. 

"  Get  away!  Don't  you  touch  me!  You  go 
away  home  and  sit  on  a  table  with  your  legs  all 
crooked  up — so ;  and  stop  playing  you  're  a  regular 
girl.     Leave  go  my  father's  hand,  I  say !  " 

Then  One  came  to  the  rescue.  As  soon  as  he 
could  stop  laughing,  he  explained  the  situation  to 
the  others,  and  though  the  incident  seemed  a  trivial 
one  to  the  younger  people  to  the  good  Doctor  it 
was  weighty  with  reproach  for  the  ignorance  he  had 
permitted  in  his  own  household.  It  also  had  its 
far-reaching  results;  for  it  led  him  to  observe  the 
Sun  Maid  critically,  and,  when  he  had  heard  her 
simple  story,  to  ask  out  of  the  fulness  of  his  own 
big  heart: 

Will  you  come  and  share  our  home  with  us,  my 
daughter  ?  Surely,  you  have  much  good  sense  and 
many  wonderful  gifts.  The  Lord  has  thrown  us 
into  one  another's  company,  and  I  believe  you  can, 
in  large  measure,  take  their  mother's  place  to  these 
sons  of  mine.  Will  you  come  and  live  in  our  home, 
dear  Sun  Maid  ?  " 


2o8  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  Indeed,  I  will!  And  love  you  for  letting  me!" 
cried  the  grateful  girl,  catching  the  Doctor's  hand 
and  kissing  it  reverently. 

But  it  did  not  occur  to  either  of  these  innocents 
that  there  was,  at  that  time,  no  home  existing  for 
them. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

THE    SHUT   AND   THE   OPEN    DOOR. 

THEY  are  all  unfitted  to  take  care  of  them- 
selves, though  the  girl  has  the  best  sense  of 
the  lot.  The  Fort  is  always  overfull.  They  would 
be  happier  by  themselves,  and  it  will  be  a  blessing 
to  have  such  a  good  man  among  us.  Let  us  build 
them  a  log  cabin  and  instal  them  in  it." 

Such  was  the  Fort  commandant's  decision  and, 
as  he  suggested,  it  was  quickly  done.  The  old 
maxim  of  many  hands  and  light  work  was  verified, 
for  in  a  magically  short  time  the  little  parsonage 
was  reared  and  the  few  belongings  of  the  household 
moved  into  it. 

"  That  's  what  it  seems  to  me," — cried  the  Sun 
Maid,  as  the  last  stroke  was  given,  and  a  soldier 
climbed  to  the  roof-peak  to  thrust  a  fresh  green 
branch  into  the  crevice, — "as  if  yesterday  we 
dreamed  we  wanted  a  home,  and  now  it  's  ours.  If 
only  Wahneenah  and  Caspar  were  here,  I  should  be 
almost  too  happy  to  live.  Yes,  and  poor  Mercy 
Smith,  who  says  she  never  did  have  a  good  time  in 

her  life;  and  Abel,  and  Black  Partridge;  and " 

14  209 


2IO  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  Everybody !  I  guess  you  're  wanting,"  reproved 
the  elder  son  of  the  minister.  For,  during  the  time 
of  building,  short  though  it  was,  the  orphan  girl  had 
become  wholly  identified  with  the  Littlejohns  house- 
hold and  felt  as  full  a  right  to  the  cabin  as  if  it  had 
been  her  own  especial  property. 

Now,  suddenly,  as  she  stood  in  the  doorway  there 
came  into  her  mind  the  prophecy  of  old  Katasha; 
and  she  looked  afar,  as  if  she  saw  visions  and  heard 
voices  denied  to  the  others.  So  rapt  did  her  gaze 
become  that  little  Four  stole  his  pudgy  hand  into 
hers  and  inquired,  beneath  his  breath: 

"  What  is  it,  Kitty  ?     What  do  you  see  ?  " 

"  I  see  crowds  and  crowds  of  people.  Of  all  sorts, 
all  forms,  all  colors,  all  races.  Crowding,  crowding^ 
and  yet  not  crushing.  Only  coming,  more  —  and 
more — and  more.  I  see  strange  buildings.  Bigger 
than  any  pictures  in  that  book  you  showed  me 
yesterday.  They  keep  rising  and  spreading  out  on 
every  side.  I  see  ships  on  the  lake;  curious  ones, 
with  tall  masts,  a  hundred  times  taller  than  that  in 
which  my  Caspar  sailed  away.  They  are  so  laden 
with  people  and  stuff  that  I — I — it  seems  to  choke 
me!  " 

She  did  not  notice  that  the  Doctor  had  drawn  near 
and  was  listening  intently;  and  even  when  his  hand 
touched  her  shoulder  she  found  it  difficult  to  com- 
prehend what  he  was  saying. 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         21  i 

"  Wake  up,  lassie!  Why,  what  is  this  ?  My 
practical  new  daughter  growing  a  star-gazer,  like  the 
foolish  old  man  ?  That  won't  do  for  our  little 
housekeeper." 

"  Won't  it,  sir  ?  I  guess  I  've  been  dreaming. 
But  I  know  I  shall  see  all  that  some  day,  right  here 
in  this  spot.  This  is  the  lake  where  the  big  ships 
sail,  and  this  the  ground  where  the  houses  stand." 

One  was  at  hand  with  his  ever-ready  reproof. 
That  's  all  nonsense,  Kitty  Briscoe.     A  person 
can't  see  more  than  a  person  can.     There  are  neither 
houses  nor  ships,  such  as  you  talk  about,  and  you 
are  sillier  than  any  fairy  story  I  ever  read." 

Yet  long  afterward  he  was  to  remember  that  first 
hour  in  the  new  home,  and  the  rapt  face  of  the  girl 
gazing  skyward. 

Then  they  all  went  in  to  supper,  which  had  been 
provided  by  the  thoughtful  friends  at  the  Fort  across 
the  river;  but  which,  the  Sun  Maid  assured  the  busy 
women  there,  must  be  the  only  meal  supplied  that 
was  ready  prepared. 

"  For,  if  I  'm  to  be  housekeeper  I  mean  to  learn 
all  about  that,  even  before  I  do  the  books,  which 
the  Doctor  will  teach  me  and  that  I  am  so  eager  to 
study.  But  I  '11  be  his  home-maker  first,  and  I  '11 
give  them  jonny-cake  for  breakfast.  Mercy  said  it 
was  cheap  and  wholesome,  and  we  have  to  be  very 
careful  of  the  Doctor's  little  money." 


212  The  Sun  Maid. 

How  wholesome,  rather  how  most  unwholesome, 
that  first  jonny-cake  proved,  Kitty  never  after 
liked  to  recall ;  but  she  was  not  the  only  young 
house  mistress  who  has  made  mistakes;  and,  fortu- 
nately, the  master  of  the  house  was  not  critical. 
And  how  far  the  study-craving  girl  would  have 
carried  out  her  own  plan  of  housewifery  before 
reading  is  not  known  ;  for,  having  done  the  best  she 
could,  and  having,  at  least,  swept  and  dusted  the 
rooms  carefully  she  took  little  Four  by  the  hand 
and  set  out  to  ask  instruction  of  her  Fort  friends 
against  the  dinner-getting. 

Now  the  fascinating  dread  and  interest  of  this 
little  fellow  was  an  Indian ;  and,  trudging  along 
through  the  dirt,  he  scanned  the  horizon  critically, 
then  suddenly  gripped  her  hand  hard  and  tight. 

"  Kitty!  I  do  believe — there  are — some  coming! 
Run!     Run!" 

"  Why  should  I  run  ?  The  Indians  are  my  best 
and  oldest  friends.     It  might  even  be " 

She  paused  so  long,  shading  her  eyes  from  the 
sunlight  and  gazing  fixedly  across  the  landscape 
with  a  gathering  surprise  and  delight  upon  her  face, 
that  the  child  clutched  her  frock,  demanding: 

"  What  is  it,  Kitty  ?  What  do  you  see  ?  What 
do  you  see  ?  " 

"The  horses!  White,  black,  and  —  Chestnut ! 
It  's  Wahneenah!     Wahneenah!  " 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         213 

Four  watched  her  disappear  behind  a  clump  of 
bushes  that  hid  the  sandhills  from  his  lower  sight, 
then  hurried  back  to  the  new  cabin,  crying  out: 

"  Father,  father  !  She  's  run  away  again  ! 
We  've  lost  her!  " 

Before  the  minister  could  be  made  to  comprehend 
his  son's  excited  story,  voices  without  drew  him  to 
the  entrance.  Even  to  him  the  name  of  Indian  had, 
in  those  days,  a  sinister  significance.  Yet,  as  he 
reached  the  threshold,  there  were  the  Sun  Maid's 
arms  about  his  neck  and  her  ecstatic  declaration : 

"  It  's  my  darling  Other  Mother!  She  's  come! 
She  '11  live  with  us!  And  the  Black  Partridge;  and 
Osceolo,  and  Tempest,  and  Snowbird,  and  the 
Chestnut!  Oh,  all  together  again;  how  happy  we 
shall  be!" 

"  Eh  ?  What  ?  Yes,  yes,  of  course,"  assented 
the  Doctor,  though  he  cast  a  rather  perplexed  glance 
about  his  limited  apartments.  "  Well,  if  it  's  to  be 
part  of  my  work,  I  am  ready,"  he  added  resignedly, 
and  not  without  thought  of  the  quiet  study  which 
would  be  out  of  the  question  in  a  tenement  so 
crowded. 

The  chief  and  the  clergyman  had  met  before, 
during  the  former's  last  visit  to  the  Fort,  and  they 
greeted  each  other  suavely,  as  would  two  white 
gentlemen  of  culture  and  unquestioned  standing. 
Then,  while  the  Sun  Maid  drew  Wahneenah  aside 


214  The  Sun  Maid. 

and  exhibited  the  cabin,  the  two  men  talked  to- 
gether and  rapidly  became  friends. 

"  The  Lord  never  shuts  one  door  but  He  opens 
another.  I  came  here  to  instruct,  hoping  to  pass 
far  onward  into  the  wilderness.  Behold !  the 
heathen  are  at  my  very  threshold.  He  took  away 
my  wife  and  sent  me  a  daughter.  Now,  at  her 
heels,  follows  a  woman  of  the  race  I  came  to  help, 
w^ho  looks  more  noble  than  most  of  her  white  sisters. 
As  the  Sun  Maid  said,  shall  we  not  do  ?  Only — 
where  to  house  them  ?  " 

"  That  is  soon  settled.  Neither  the  chief's 
daughter  nor  the  youth,  Osceolo,  could  sleep  be- 
neath the  tight  roof  of  the  pale-face.  Their  wig- 
wams shall  be  pitched  behind  this  cabin,  and  there 
will  they  abide.  So  will  I  arrange  with  the  people 
at  the  Fort,  who  are  my  friends.  Yet,  let  the  great 
medicine-man  keep  a  sharp  eye  to  the  young  brave, 
Osceolo.  He  is  my  kinsman.  There  is  good  in  the 
youth,  and  there  is,  also,  evil  —  much  evil.  He 
lies  upon  the  ground  to  dream  wild  schemes,  then 
rises  up  to  practise  them.  He  is  like  the  pale-faces 
— by  birth  a  liar.  He  is  not  to  be  trusted.  Only 
by  fear  does  he  become  as  clay  in  the  hands  of  the 
potter.  If  my  brother,  the  great  medicine-man, 
will  accept  this  charge  I  ask  of  him  there  shall  be 
always  venison  in  plenty,  and  bear's  meat,  and  the 
flesh  of  cattle,    at  his  door.      He  shall   have  corn 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         215 

from  the  fields  of  the  scattered  Pottawatomies,  and 
the  fuel  for  his  hearth-fire  shall  never  waste.  How 
says  my  brother,  the  wise  medicine-man  ?" 

"  What  can  I  say  but  that  the  Black  Partridge  is 
as  generous  as  he  is  brave,  and  that  his  readiness 
to  support  a  minister  of  the  gospel  amazes  me  ?  In 
that  more  settled  East,  from  which  I  came,  the  rich 
men  gave  grudgingly  to  their  pastor  of  such  things 
as  themselves  did  not  need,  and  I  was  always  in 
poverty.  Therefore,  for  the  sake  of  my  sons,  I 
came  hither.  Truly,  in  this  wilderness,  I  have  re- 
ceived evil  at  the  hand  of  the  Lord ;  but  I  have, 
also,  received  much  good.  If  He  wills,  from  this 
humble  tenement  shall  go  forth  a  blessing  that  can- 
not be  measured.  Leave  the  woman  and  the  undis- 
ciplined youth  with  me.  I  will  deal  with  them  as  I 
am  given  wisdom." 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  new,  rich  life  for  the 
Sun  Maid.  It  opened  to  Wahneenah,  also,  a 
period  of  unbroken  happiness.  The  minister,  over 
whose  household  affairs  she  promptly  assumed  a 
wise  control,  honored  her  with  his  confidence  and 
abided  by  her  clear-sighted  counsel.  She  was 
constantly  associated  with  her  beloved  Girl-Child, 
and  could  watch  the  rapid  development  of  her  in- 
tellect and  all-loving  heart. 

Indeed,  Love  was  the  keynote  to  Kitty  Briscoe's 
character;  and  out  of  love  for  everybody  about  her. 


2i6  The  Sun  Maid. 

and  especially  in  hope  to  be  of  use  to  her  Indian 
friends,  sprang  the  greatest  incentive  to  study. 

"  The  more  I  know,  the  better  I  can  help  them  to 
understand,"  she  said  to  Wahneenah,  who  agreed 
and  approved. 

The  years  sped  quietly  and  rapidly  by,  as  busy 
years  always  do.  Some  changes  came  to  the  little 
settlement  of  Chicago,  but  they  were  only  few; 
until,  one  sunny  day  in  spring,  there  reached  the 
ears  of  the  Sun  Maid  a  sudden  cry  that  seemed  to 
turn  all  the  months  backward,  as  a  scroll  is  rolled. 

Bending  above  her  table,  strewn  with  the  Doctor's 
notes  which  she  was  copying,  in  the  pleasant  room 
of  a  big  frame  house  that  was  one  of  the  few  new 
things  of  the  town,  she  heard  the  call;  dimly  at 
first,  as  an  out-of-door  incident  which  did  not  con- 
cern herself.  When  it  was  repeated,  she  started 
visibly,  and  cried  out : 

"  I  know  that  voice!  That  's  Mercy  Smith! 
There  was  never  another  just  like  it!  " 

She  sprang  up  and  ran  to  answer,  shouting  in  re- 
turn : 

"Halloo!     What  is  it?" 

"  Help!" 

A  few  rods'  run  beyond  the  clump  of  trees  that 
bordered  the  garden  revealed  the  difificulty.  A 
heavy  wagon,  loaded  with  bags  of  grain,  was  mired 
in  the  mud  of  the  prairie  road.     A  woman  stood 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         217 

upright  in  the  vehicle,  lashing  and  scolding  the 
oxen,  which  tried,  but  failed,  to  extricate  the 
wheels  from  the  clay  that  held  them  fast. 

"  I  'm  coming!  I  'm  Kitty!  And,  Mercy — is  it 
really  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  I  ain't  beat!  You  're  Kitty,  sure 
enough!     But  what  a  size!  " 

"  Yes.  I  'm  a  woman  now,  almost.  How  glad 
I  am  to  see  you !     How  's  Abel  ?     Where  is  he  ?  " 

Must  be  glad,  if  you  'd  let  so  many  years  go  by 
without  once  comin'  to  visit  me." 

"  I  did  n't  know  that  you  'd  be  pleased  to  have  me. 
I  did  n't  treat  you  well,  to  leave  you  as  I  did.  But 
where  's  Abel  ?  " 

"  Home.  Trying  to  sell  out.  My  land!  How 
pretty  you  've  growed  !  Only  that  white  dress  and 
hair  a-streamin' ;  be  you  dressed  for  a  party,  child  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed  !  I  '11  run  and  get  something 
to  help  you  out  with,  if  you  '11  be  patient." 

Have  to  be,  I  reckon,  since  I  'm  stuck  tight. 
No  hurry.  The  oxen  '11  rest.  I  *ve  heard  about 
you,  out  home  —  how  't  you  'd  found  a  rich  min- 
ister to  take  you  in  an'  eddicate  you,  an'  your 
keepin'  half-Indian  still.  Might  have  taught  you 
to  brush  your  hair,  I  'low;  an'  from  appearances 
you  'd  have  done  better  to  have  stayed  with 
me.  You  hain't  growed  up  very  sensible,  have 
you  ? " 


2i8  The  Sun  Maid. 

The  Sun  Maid  laughed,  just  as  merrily  and  in- 
fectiously as  when  she  had  first  crept  for  shelter  into 
Mercy  Smith's  cabin, 

"  Maybe  not.  I  'm  not  the  judge.  I  '11  test  my 
wisdom,  though,  by  trying  to  help  you  out  of  that 
mud.     I  '11  be  back  in  a  moment." 

She  turned  to  run  toward  the  house,  but  Mercy 
remonstrated: 

"  You  can't  help  in  them  fine  clothes.  Ain't 
there  no  men  around  ?  " 

"  A  few.  Most  of  them  are  out  of  the  village  on 
a  big  hunting  frolic.     We  '11  manage  without." 

"  Humph!     They  'd  better  be  huntin'  Indians." 

The  girl  looked  up  anxiously.  "  Is  there  any 
trouble  ?  " 

"  Always  trouble  where  the  red-skins  are." 

Kitty  departed,  and  the  settler's  wife  watched  her 
with  feelings  of  mingled  admiration,  anger,  and 
astonishment. 

"  She  's  grown,  powerful.  Tall  an'  straight  as 
an  Indian,  an'  fair  as  a  snowflake.  Such  hair!  I 
don't  wonder  she  wears  it  that  way,  though  I 
would  n't  humor  her  by  lettin'  on.  I  've  heard  she 
did  it  to  please  her  '  tribe  '  an'  the  old  minister. 
Well,  there  's  always  plenty  of  fools.  They  're  a 
crop  'at  never  fails." 

The  Sun  Maid  reappeared.  She  had  not  stopped 
to  change  her  white  gown,  but  she  brought  a  pair 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         219 

of  snow-shoes,  and  carried  three  or  four  short  planks 
across  her  strong,  firm  shoulder. 

"  My  sake!  Ain't  you  tough!  I  could  n't  lift 
one  them  planks,  rugged  as  I  call  myself,  let  alone 
four.      But — snow-shoes  in  the  springtime  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  've  learned  a  way  for  myself  of  helping 
the  many  who  get  mired  out  here.  See  how 
quickly  I  can  set  you  free." 

Putting  on  the  shoes,  the  girl  walked  straight  over 
the  mud,  and  throwing  down  the  planks  before  the 
animals,  encouraged  them  to  help  themselves. 

"  What  are  their  names  ?  Jim  and  Pete  ?  Come 
on,  my  poor  beasts;  and,  once  clear,  you  shall  have 
a  fine  rest  and  feed." 

"Shucks!  There!  Go  on!  Giddap !  Gee! 
Haw!" 

There  followed  a  time  of  suspense,  but  at  last  the 
oxen  gained  a  little  advance,  when  Kitty  promptly 
moved  the  planks  forward,  and  in  due  time  the 
wagon  rolled  out  upon  a  firmer  spot. 

"  Well,  Kitty  girl,  you  may  not  have  sense,  but 
you  've  got  what 's  better — that  's  gumption.  And 
that  's  Chicago,  is  it  ? " 

"  Yes.     I  hope  you  like  it." 

"  I  've  got  to,  whether  or  no.  I  'm  in  awful 
trouble,  Kitty  Briscoe,  an'  it  's  all  your  fault." 

"  What  can  you  mean  ?  " 

"Abel— Abel " 


2  20  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  Yes — yes!     What  is  it  ?  " 

Ever  sence  you  run  away  he  's  been  pinin*  to 
run  after  you.  Said  the  house  was  n't  home  no 
more.  'T  was  n't;  though  I  would  n't  let  on  to 
him.  We  've  kept  gettin'  comfortabler  off,  an'  I 
jawed  him  from  mornin'  to  night  to  make  him 
contented.  But  he  would  n't  listen.  Got  so  he 
would  n't  work  home  if  he  could  help  it,  but  lounged 
round  the  neighbors'.  Got  hankerin'  to  go  some- 
wheres,  an'  keep  tavern,  like  his  father  afore  him. 
Now,  we  've  got  burnt  out " 

"  Burned  out!  Oh,  Mercy,  that  is  trouble,  in- 
deed !  Tell  me —  No,  wait.  Let  us  go  and  get 
something  to  eat  first ;  and  what  were  you  intending 
to  do  with  that  load  of  stuff  ?  " 

"  Ship  it  East,  if  I  can.  I  've  heard  there  was 
consid'able  that  business  bein'  done.  Or  sell  it  to 
the  Fort  folks." 

"I  think  they  '11  be  glad  of  it;  they  are  always 
needing  everything.  I  '11  go  with  you  there, 
and  your  team  can  be  left  there,  too,  till  Abel 
comes." 

"  Abel!  You  don't  think  I  'd  leave  him  to  man- 
age business,  do  you  ?  " 

I  thought  you  said  he  was  now  staying  behind 
to  sell  out — to  '  manage,'  " 

He  's  stayin'  to  try.  There  's  a  big  difference 
'twixt   tryin'    an'    doin'.      He   can't   sell,  not  easy. 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         221 

And  some  day,  when  this  whim  of  his  is  over,  we  '11 
go  back  an'  settle  again,  or  move  farther  on.  It  's 
gettin'  ruther  crowded  where  we  be  for  comfort, 
these  days." 

"  Crowded  ?     Are  there  many  new  neighbors  ?  " 
Lots.     Some  of  'em  ain't  more  'n  a  mile  away, 
an'  I   call  that  too  close  for  convenience.     Don't 
like  to  have  folks  pokin'  their  noses  into  my  very 
door-yard,  so  to  speak." 

How  will  you  endure  it  here,  where,  according 
to  your  ideas,  the  houses  are  so  very  close  ?  " 

"  I  don't  expect  to  like  it.  But,  pshaw!  They 
be  thick,  ain't  they?  I  declare  it  makes  me  think 
of  out  East,  an'  our  village;  only  that  was  n't  built 
on  the  bottomless  pit,  like  this." 

"  This  is  the  Fort.  After  you  've  finished  your 
business  with  the  officer  in  charge,  we  '11  go  home 
and  get  our  dinner." 

The  stranger  observed  with  surprise  and  some 
pride  the  great  respect  with  which  this  girl,  who 
had  once  been  under  her  own  care,  was  treated  by 
all  she  met.  The  few  soldiers  on  duty  that  morning 
saluted  her  with  a  smile  and  military  precision, 
while  the  women  hailed  her  coming  with  exclama- 
tions of: 

Oh,  Kitty!  You  here  ?  I  'm  so  glad;  for  I 
wanted  to  ask  you  about  my  work";  or:  "  Say, 
Kit !     There  are  a  lot  of  new  newspapers,  only  a 


222  The  Sun  Maid, 

week  old,  that  I  've  hidden  for  you  to  read  first  be- 
fore the  others  get  hold  of  them." 

One  called  after  her,  as  they  started  homeward: 

"  How  are  the  sick  ones  to-day  ?  " 

"  What  did  she  mean  ?  "  demanded  Mercy. 

"  Oh,  that  house  on  the  edge  of  the  village  is  a 
sort  of  hospital  and  school  combined.  I  am  there 
most  of  the  time,  though  my  real  home  is  with  the 
Littlejohns,  just  as  it  has  always  been  ;  though 
the  Doctor  is  not  rich,  as  you  fancied,  in  anything 
save  wisdom  and  goodness." 

"  You  're  a  great  scholar  now,  Kitty,  I  s'pose — 
could  even  do  figurin'  an'  writin'  letters." 

"  I  can  do  that  much  without  being  a  'scholar.' 
I  've  learned  all  sorts  of  things  that  came  my  way, 
from  civil  engineering  —  enough  to  survey  lots  for 
people  —  to  a  little  Greek.  The  surveying  was 
taught  me  by  a  man  who  was  in  our  sick-room,  and 
in  gratitude  for  the  care  we  gave  him.  It  's  very 
useful  here." 

"  Can  you  sing,  or  play  music  ? " 

"  I  always  sang,  you  know;  and  I  can  play  the 
violin  to  guide  the  hymns  *  in  meeting.*  " 

"  What 's  that  ?     A  fiddle— to  hymns!  " 

"  Yes.  Why  not,  since  it  's  the  only  instrument 
we  have  ?" 

"  My  land  !     You  '11  be  dancin'  at  worship  next !  " 

"  Maybe.     There  are  religious  people  who  dance 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door,         223 

at  their  services.       But  here  we  are.     This  is  the 
Doctor's  house,  and  you  '11  meet  Wahneenah." 

"Wahneeny!  You  don't  tell  me  that  good, 
pious  parson  is  consortin'  with  that  bad-tempered 
Indian  squaw !  " 

"  Wait,  Mercy.  You  must  not  speak  like  that 
of  her,  nor  think  so.  She  is  as  my  very  own 
mother.  She  is  nobility  itself.  Everybody  ac- 
knowledges that.  I  want  there  should  be  peace, 
even  if  there  can't  be  love,  between  you  two.  It  's 
better,  is  n't  it,  to  understand  things  in  the  be- 
ginning ?  " 

Hmm !  You  can  speak  your  mind  out  yet,  I 
see.  But  that  's  all  right.  I  don't  care,  child.  I 
don't  care.  It  does  my  old  eyes  good  just  to  look 
at  you;  an',  for  once,  I'll  'low  Abel  was  right  in 
wantin'  to  move  out  here.  I  'm  lookin'  for  him 
'fore  night,  by  the  way.  But  hold  on!  Who  's 
that  out  in  the  back  yard,  with  feathers  in  his  hair, 
an'  a  blue  check  shirt,  grinnin'  like  a  hyena,  an'  a 
knife  stickin'  out  his  pocket  ?  Wait  till  I  get  hold 
of  him,  my  sake!  " 

Mercy's  words  poured  out  without  breathing- 
space  or  stop,  and  the  Sun  Maid  laughed  as  she 
replied : 

"  Why,  that  's  only  Osceolo.  Do  you  know 
him  ?  " 

"  Kitty  Briscoe!     All  the  wild  horses  in   Illinois 


224  The  Sun  Maid. 

can't  make  me  believe  no  different  but  't  was  him 
set  our  barn  afire!  " 

"  When  ?     He  's  not  been  away — for  some  days." 

"  Wait  till  he  catches  sight  of  me!  " 

But  when  the  young  Indian  did  turn  around,  and 
saw  the  pair  watching  him,  he  coolly  walked  toward 
them,  regarding  Mercy  as  if  she  were  an  utter 
stranger,  and  one  whom  he  was  rather  pleased  to 
meet. 

"  Friend  of  yours,  Sun  Maid  ?  Glad  to  see 
her." 

"  Glad  to  see  me,  be  you?  Wait  till  Abel  Smith 
comes  an'  identifies  you.  Then  see  which  side  the 
laugh  's  on,  you — you " 

"  Osceolo  is  my  name,  ma'am." 

Foreseeing  difficulties,  the  girl  guided  her  guest 
into  the  kitchen,  where  Wahneenah  was  preparing 
dinner,  and  where  the  Indian  woman  greeted  her 
old  acquaintance  with  no  surprise  and,  certainly, 
without  any  of  the  effusiveness  that,  for  once,  rather 
marked  Mercy's  manner  toward  her  former  "  hired 
girl." 

"  Well,  it  's  a  real  likely  house,  now,  ain't  it  ? 
I  'd  admire  to  see  the  minister.  It  's  years  since  I 
saw  one.     Is  he  about  ?  " 

Kitty  answered : 

"  Yes.  He  is  studying.  I  rather  hate  to  disturb 
him;  but  at  dinner  you  will  meet  him." 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         225 

Studying  !  Studying  what  ?  Why,  I  thought 
he  was  an  old  man." 

"  He  is.  So  old,  I  sometimes  fear  we  will  not 
have  him  with  us  long." 

"  What 's  the  use  learnin'  anything  more,  then  ?  " 

"  One  can  never  know  too  much,  I  fancy.  Just 
at  present  he  is  writing  a  dictionary  of  the  Indian 
dialects,  so  far  as  he  has  been  able  to  obtain 
them." 

"  The — Indian — language!  He  would  n't  be  so 
silly,  now  come!  " 

"  He  is  just  so  wise.  It  is  a  splendid  work.  I 
am  proud  to  be  his  helper,  even  by  just  merely  copy- 
ing his  papers." 

"  Well!  You  could  knock  me  down  with  a 
feather!  One  thing — I  sha'  n't  never  set  under 
his  preachin'.  I  would  n't  demean  myself.  The 
idee !  ' ' 

"  Mercy,  do  you  remember  the  red-covered 
Bible  ?     Have  you  it  still  ?  " 

"  Course.  I  would  n't  let  anything  happen  to 
that.  It  was  a  reward  of  merit.  It  's  wrote  in  the 
front:  '  To  Mercy  Balch,  for  being  a  Good  Girl.' 
That  was  me  afore  I  was  married.  It  's  in  my  car- 
pet-bag. I  mean  to  have  it  buried  with  me.  I 
would  n't  never  spile  it  by  handlin'." 

"  I  hope  you  '11  use  it  now,  for  it  's  so  easy  to  get 
another.     The  Doctor  will  give  you  one  at  any  time. 


226  The  Sun  Maid. 

The  Bible  Society  in  the  East  furnishes  all  he 
needs." 

Dinner  was  promptly  ready,  and,  after  it  was  over, 
the  Sun  Maid  carried  her  old  friend  away  with  her 
to  the  government  building,  which  was  not  only 
hospital,  but  schoolhouse  and  land-office  all  in  one. 
Everything  here  was  so  new  and  interesting  to 
Mercy  that  surprise  kept  her  silent;  until,  happen- 
ing to  glance  through  the  window,  she  beheld  a 
rough-looking  man  approaching  on  horseback. 

"  Pshaw!  there  's  Abel!  Wait  an'  see  him  stick 
where  I  stuck!  "  she  chuckled.  "  Well,  he  sold 
out  sudden,  did  n't  he  ?  He  'd  better  come  in  the 
wagon,  but  he  'lowed  he  'd  enjoy  a  ride  all  by  him- 
self. I  reckon  he  's  had  it.  See  him  stare  and 
splash!    There  he  goes!    See  that  old  nag  flounder !  " 

Kitty  sprang  up  and  ran  to  welcome  him,  the 
heartiest  of  love  in  her  clear  tones. 

"  Why,  bless  my  soul!  If  I  thought  it  could  be, 
I  should  say  it  was  my  own  lost  little  Kit!  " 

As  he  gazed  his  rugged  face  grew  beautiful  in  its 
wondering  joy. 

"  Oh,  Abel!  That  's  the  way  Chicago  receives 
her  new  citizens!  She  plants  them  so  deep  in  the 
mud  that  they  can't  get  away!  But  wait.  I  '11 
help  you  out  the  same  way  I  did  Mercy,  and  then 
I  '11  get  my  arms  about  your  neck,  you  dear  old 
Abel!" 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         227 

"  Help  me  out  ?  Not  much!  Not  when  there  's 
such  a  pretty  girl  a  few  feet  away  waitin'  to  kiss  my 
homely  face!  "  and,  with  a  spring  that  was  marvel- 
lous to  see,  the  woodsman  leaped  from  his  horse 
and  landed  on  the  higher  sod  beside  his  "  Kit." 

"  Well,  well !  To  think  it !  Just  to  think  it  once  ! 
Well,  well,  well !  How  big  you  are,  Kit!  My,  my, 
my  ;  and  as  sweet  to  look  at  as  a  locust  tree  in  bloom, 
with  your  white  frock,  an'  all.  I  've  got  here  at  last ! 
I  can't  scarce  believe  it.  And,  lassie,  are  you  as 
close-mouthed  as  you  used  to  be  when  you  made  a 
promise?  Then— don't  tell  Mercy;  but — I  done  it 
a-purpose  !  ' ' 

Did  what  ?  Let  us  get  the  poor  horse  out  of 
the  mud  before  we  talk." 

Shucks!  He  ain't  worth  pullin'  out.  If  he 
ain't  horse  enough  to  help  himself,  let  him  stay 
there  a  spell,  an'  think  it  over.  He  '11  flounder 
round " 

"  You  don't  know  our  mud,  Abel." 

He  's  all  right.  He  's  helpin'  himself.  He  's 
makin'  a  genuz;/^  effort.  A  man  —  or  horse  —  that 
does  that  is  sure  to  win.  That  's  how  I  put  it  to 
myself.  After  I  'd  wrastled  with  the  subject  up 
hill  an'  down  dale,  till  I  could  n't  see  nothin'  else  in 
the  face  of  natur',  I  done  it.  Out  in  the  East, 
where  I  come  from,  they  'd  a  had  me  up  for  it;  an' 
I   don't  know  but  they  will  here.     But  I  had  to, 


228  The  Sun  Maid. 

Kit,  I  had  to.  I  was  dead  sick  an'  starvin'  for  a 
sight  of  you  an'  the  boy,  an'  mis'able  with  blamin' 
myself  that  I  had  n't  treated  you  different  when  I 
had  you,  so  you  would  n't  have  run  away.  You 
was  a  master  hand  at  that  business,  was  n't  you, 
girl  ?     I  hope  you  've  quit  now,  though." 

"  I  think  so.  Here  I  was  born,  and  here  I  hope 
to  stay.  All  my  runnings  have  begun  and  ended 
here.     But  what  did  you  do.  Father  Abel  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Sis!  that  name  does  me  good.  Promise 
you  '11  never  tell, — not  till  your  dyin'  day." 

"  I  can't  promise  that;  but  I  '11  not  tell  if  I  can 
help  it." 

"  Well,  you  always  had  a  tender  conscience.  Yet 
I  can  trust  your  love  better  'n  ary  promise.  Well 
— / — burnt — it  !  " 

"  Burned  it  ?  Your  house  ?  Your  home  ?  Yours 
and  Mercy's  ?     Why— Abel !  " 

The  pioneer  squared  his  mighty  shoulders,  and 
faced  her  as  a  defiant  child  might  an  offended 
mother. 

"  Yes,  I  did.  The  house,  the  bed-quilts,  the  an- 
tiquated bedstead,  the  whole  endurin'  business.  It 
was  the  only  way.  Year  after  year  she  'd  keep 
naggin'  for  me  to  move  on  further  into  the  wilder- 
ness. Me,  that  was  starvin'  for  folks,  an'  knew 
she  was!  It  was  just  plumb  lonesomeness  made  her 
what  she  is:  a  nagger.     So,  at  last — you  've  heard 


The  Shut  and  the  Open  Door.         229 

about  worms  turnin',  hain't  you  ?  I  watched,  an' 
when  she  'd  gone  trudgin'  off  on  a  four-mile  tramp, 
pretendin'  somebody's  baby  was  sick,  but  really 
meanin'  she  was  that  druv  to  hear  the  sound  of 
another  woman's  voice,  I  took  pity  on  her — an'  my- 
self— an'  set  fire  to  that  hateful  old  heirloom  of  a 
bedstead;  an'  whilst  it  was  burnin'  I  just  whipped 
out  the  old  fiddle,  an'  I  played — my!  how  I  played! 
Every  time  a  post  fell  into  the  middle,  I  just 
danced.  '  So  much  nearer  folks!  '  I  thought.  And 
the  rag-carpet  an'  the  nineteen-hunderd-million- 
patch-bedspread —  Kit,  I  've  set  there,  day  after 
day,  an'  seen  Mercy  cuttin'  up  whole  an'  decent 
rags,  an'  sewin'  'em  together  again,  till  I  've  near 
gone  stark  mad.  Fact.  I  used  to  wonder  if  it 
was  n't  a  sort  of  craziness  possessed  her  to  do  that 
foolishness.  Now,  it  's  all  over.  She  lays  the  fire 
to  an  Indian  feller  that  I  've  spoke  fair  to,  now  an' 
again,  an'  that  had  been  round  our  way  huntin'  not 
long  before.  I  don't  know  where  he  come  from, 
an'  I  never  asked  him.  He  never  told.  Pretended 
he  could  n't  talk  Yankee.  Don't  know  as  he  could, 
but  he  could  talk  chicken  or  little  pig  fast  enough. 
Leastways,  I  missed  such  after  he  'd  been  there. 
Well,  it  was  n't  him.  // — was — me!  I  burnt  the 
bedstead,  an'  now  we  're  free  folks!  " 

But,  Abel,  why  not  have  brought  the  bedstead 
with  you,  if  she  loved  it  so  ?     Why  destroy " 


230  The  Sun  Maid 

Sissy,  you  don't  know  Mercy  —  not  as  I  do. 
It  was  that  furniture  kept  her.  So  long  as  she  had 
it,  so  long  as  she  could  kind  of  boast  it  over  her 
neighbors,  there  she  'd  set.  We  could  n't  have 
moved  it.  She  near  worried  herself  into  her  grave 
gettin'  it  into  the  wilderness,  first  off,  an'  she  ain't 
so  young  now  as  she  was  then.  She  'd  ruther  lost 
a  leg  than  had  it  scratched.  I  saved  that  load  of 
feed,  an'  the  ox  team,  an'  the  old  horse.  Yes,  an' 
my  fiddle.  Mercy  's  got  money.  She  had  it  hid. 
I  'm  goin'  to  settle  here  an'  keep  tavern,  if  I  can. 
If  not  here,  then  somewheres  else.  Anywhere 
where  there  's  folks.  Trees  are  nice;  prairies  are 
nice;  a  clearin'  of  your  own  is  nice;  but  human 
natur'  is  nicer.  Don't  tell  Mercy,  though,  or 
there  '11  be  trouble!    Now,  Kit,  where  's  Caspar  ?  " 

Oh,  A  bel !     0?ily  the  dear  Lord  knows  !  ' ' 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A   DAY    OF    HAPPENINGS. 

ABEL!    Abel  Smith!     Here  I  am.    Right  here, 
in  our  Httle  Kitty's  own  house.      How  'd 
you  get  along  ?     Did  the  man  buy  ?  " 

"  Shucks!  "  groaned  the  pioneer,  as  these  words 
reached  him  where  he  stood  beside  the  Sun  Maid, 
eager  to  hear  what  she  could  tell  him  of  the  lad 
Caspar.  "  Shucks!  I  've  had  aright  peaceful  sort 
of  day,  me  and  old  Dobbin,  and  I  'd  most  forgot  it 
could  n't  last.  Say,  Kit,  you  look  like  a  girl 
could  do  a'most  ary  thing  she  tried  to.  Just  put 
your  shoulder  to  the  wheel,  won't  you,  and  shut 
the  power  off  Mercy's  tongue.  Tell  her  't  ain't  the 
fashion  for  women  to  talk  much  or  loud,  not  in  big 
settlements  like  this.  She  's  death  on  the  fashion, 
Mercy  is.  Why,  that  last  gown  of  hers,  cut  out  a 
piece  of  calico  a  neighbor  brought  from  the  East — 
you  'd  ought  to  see  it.  She  got  hold  a  picture- 
book,  land  knows  when  or  where,  and  copied  one 
the  pictures.  Waist  clean  up  to  her  neck,  it  's  so 
short,  and  sleeves  big  enough  to  make  me  a  suit  of 
clothes.  Fact!  Wait  till  you  see  it.  .She  's  a 
231 


232  The  Sun  Maid. 

sight,  I  tell  you.  But  so  long  's  she  thinks  it  's  a 
touch  beyond,  why  she  's  happy.  But  don't  let  her 
talk  so  much.     'T  ain't  proper;  not  in  settlements." 

The  Sun  Maid  set  her  head  on  one  side  and  re- 
garded her  old  friend  critically;  then  frankly,  if 
laughingly,  remarked : 

"Abel,  you  dear,  you  can  beat  Mercy  talking,  by 
a  great  length.  It  's  funny  to  hear  you  blaming  her 
for  the  very  thing  you  do.  But  I  like  it.  You 
can't  guess  how  I  like  it,  and  how  it  brings  back  my 
childish  days  in  the  forest.  Now  come  in  and  get 
something  to  eat.     Then  we  can  have  another  talk." 

"  I  ain't  hungry.  I  had  some  doughnuts  in  my 
saddle-bags,  and  I  munched  them  along  the  road. 
Say,  Kit.  Don't  tell  Mercy;  but  I  did  n't  try  to 
sell.  Just  put  the  question  once,  so  to  satisfy  her 
when  she  asked.  We  hain't  no  need.  She  's  got  a 
lot  of  money  in  a  buckskin  bag  tied  round  her  waist. 
The  land  's  all  right.  It  's  a  good  investment.  I  '11 
let  it  stand.  This  country  is  bound  to  grow.  Some 
day  it  will  be  worth  a  power,  and  then  I  '11  sell  out, 
if  I  'm  livin' ;  and  if  I  ain't,  you  can.  One  of  the 
reasons  I  came  was  to  fix  things  up  for  you.  I 
always  meant  to  make  you  my  legatee.  We  've 
no  kith  nor  kin  nigh  enough  to  worry  about,  Mercy 
an'  me;  an'  I  'low  she  'd  be  agreeable.  So  we  '11  let 
the  land  lie.  Oh,  bosh !  There  she  is,  calling  again. 
May  as  well  go  in  for  she  won't  stop  till  we  do." 


A  Day  of  Happenings.  233 

After  all,  there  was  real  pleasure  in  the  faces  of 
both  husband  and  wife  at  their  reunion,  short  though 
their  separation  had  been,  and  bitter  though  their 
words  sounded  to  a  stranger;  and,  already,  there 
was  a  personal  pride  in  Mercy's  tones  as  she  ex 
hibited  the  house  over  which  the  Sun  Maid  pre- 
sided, and  explained  the  details  —  supplied  by  her 
own  imagination — of  its  purposes. 

"  But  about  Caspar,  Mercy.  Has  she  told  you 
anything  about  him  yet  ?  I  'm  'lowing  to  have 
him  help  me  keep  tavern  if  he  's  grown  up  as  capable 
as  he  promised  when  he  was  a  little  shaver." 

"  No.  She  hain't  said  a  word.  Fact  is,  I  hain't 
asked.  We  've  been  too  busy  with  other  things. 
Likely  he  's  round  somevvheres.  Maybe  off  hunt- 
ing with  them  lazy  soldiers.  Shame,  I  think.  The 
Government  keepin'  'em  just  to  loaf  away  their 
time." 

"  Hmm  !  What  on  earth  else  could  they  do  with 
it  ?  I  met  a  man,  coming  along,  said  there  'd  been 
a  right  sharp  lot  of  wolves  prowlin'  this  winter  an' 
spring.  They  're  gettin'  most  too  neighborly  for 
comfort  for  the  settlers  across  the  prairies,  so  the 
military  are  trying  to  clear  them  out.  That  's 
not  a  bad  idee.  But  don't  it  beat  all!  That 
little  sissy,  that  used  to  have  to  stand  on  a  three- 
legged  stool  to  turn  the  stirabout,  grown  like 
she  has  ?     I  never  saw  a  finer  woman,  never;  and 


234  The  Sun  Maid. 

her  hair  's  the  same  dazzlin'  kind  it  always  was. 
I  'low  I  'm  proud  of  her,  and  no  mistake.  Hello! 
What  's  yonder  ?  An  Indian,  on  horseback,  a- 
stoppin'  to  this  place!  What  's  he  after?  His 
face  is  painted  black,  too.  There  's  Sunny  Maid 
going  out  to  talk  with  him,  and  Wahneeny,  too. 
Must  be  somethin'  up." 

"  There  's  always  somethin'  up,  where  there  's 
an  Indian.     I  hate  'em,  an'  they  know  it." 

I  guess  they  do,  ma.  Wahneeny,  for  instance, 
and —  Shucks!  That  long,  lanky,  copper-face  out 
back  there,  settin'  flat  on  the  ground,  trying  to 
pitch  jack-knives  with  a  lot  of  other  boys,  white 
ones;  he  's  the  chap  that  hung  around  our  place  so 
much  —  the  chicken-stealer.  I  'm  going  to  speak 
to  him." 

"  And  I  'm  going  to  get  him  took  up,  just  as  soon 
as  the  Captain  gets  back,  for  setting  our  house  afire. 
It  would  n't  have  happened  if  I  'd  been  home;  but 
you  never  could  be  trusted  to  look  after  things." 

Abel  thought  it  time  to  change  the  subject,  and 
retreated,  while  Mercy's  attention  became  riveted 
upon  the  group  before  the  house.  The  faces  of  all 
three  were  very  grave,  and  Wahneenah,  who  had 
come  across  to  nurse  a  sick  child,  paid  no  heed  to 
its  fretful  calls  for  her.  The  Indian  horseman 
tarried  but  a  brief  time,  then  wheeled  about  and 
rode  westward  over  the  prairie,  avoiding  the  regular 


A  Day  of  Happenings.  235 

road  and  the  mud  where  the  Smiths  had  suffered 
such  annoyance. 

Wahneenah  returned  to  her  charge,  and  the  Sun 
Maid  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  the  Fort.  Be- 
fore Mercy  could  decide  whether  to  follow  or  not, 
the  girl  reappeared,  and  her  old  friend  viewed  her 
with  amazement.  She  had  mounted  the  Snowbird, 
which  looked  no  older  than  when  Mercy  had  watched 
her  gallop  away  across  the  prairie,  and  had  slung  the 
famous  White  Bow  upon  her  saddle  horn.  About 
her  floating  hair  she  had  wound  a  fillet  of  white 
beads  and  feathers,  and  fastened  the  White  Necklace 
of  Lahnowenah,  the  Giver,  around  her  fair  throat. 
She  sat  her  horse  as  only  one  trained  to  the  saddle 
from  infancy  could  have  done,  and  her  commanding 
figure  seemed  perfect  in  every  outline. 

"To  the  land's  sake!  Ain't  she  splendid!  I 
never  saw  such  a  sight.  Never.  Never.  Abel! 
Abel!     A-b-e-1!!" 

"Yes,  yes;  what?  Mercy,  Mercy  Smith,  hold 
your  tongue!  Don't  you  know  folks  can't  bawl  in 
a  settlement  as  they  do  in  the  backwoods  ?  What 
ails  you  ?  I  'm  coming  as  fast  as  a  man  in  reason 
can.  Hey  ?  Kitty  ?  Well,  why  did  n't  you  say 
so  ?  Where  ?  Out  front  ?  My— land !  Well, 
well,  well!  It  ain't  —  it  can't  be  —  it  is!  Well, 
Kitty  girl,  you  beat  the  Dutch!  " 

The  young  horsewoman  rode  up  to  the  front  door 


236  The  Sun  Maid. 

of  her  house,  and  paused  to  let  her  old  friends  ad- 
mire her  to  their  satisfaction.  But  their  admiration 
aroused  neither  surprise  nor  vanity  in  her  simple, 
straightforward  mind.  Years  before,  the  old  clergy- 
man had  said  to  her,  upon  their  first  meeting,  that 
the  Lord  had  been  very  good  to  her  in  giving  her  a 
beauty  so  remarkable  and  impressive;  and  under 
his  wise  instruction  she  had  accepted  the  fact  as  she 
did  all  the  others  of  her  life.  Only  she  had  striven 
to  keep  her  soul  always  worthy  of  the  glorious  form 
in  which  it  was  housed  and  to  use  all  her  gifts  and 
graces  for  good.  So  she  stood  a  while,  letting  the 
honest  couple  inspect  and  comment,  and  finally 
answering  Abel's  curiosity,  in  honest  modesty. 

"  Why  am  I  so  dressed  up  ?  Because  I  have  a 
mission  to  perform,  and  I  need  to  make  myself  as 
beautiful  as  possible." 

"  Kit — ty  Bris — coe!  I  've  read  in  my  red  Bible 
that  '  favor  is  deceitful  and  beauty  is  vain.'  I  'm 
amazed  at  you.  Livin'  with  a  minister,  too.  Well, 
he  can't  preach  to  me.  I  'd  despise  to  set  under 
him." 

Abel's  eyes  twinkled,  but  the  gravity  of  the  Sun 
Maid's  face  did  not  lessen.  She  explained  gently, 
yet  with  unshaken  decision,  that  her  self-adornment 
was  right,  and  gave  her  reasons. 

' '  You  will  remember,  dears,  that  I  am  a  '  Daughter 
of  the  Pottavvatomies.'     They  believe  that  I  have 


A  Day  of  Happenings.  237 

supernatural  gifts,  and  that  I  am  a  spirit  living  in  a 
human  form." 

"  And  you  let  'em,  Kit,  you  let  'em  ?  " 

"  I  could  n't  prevent  it  if  I  tried.  And  I  do  not 
try.  That  idea  of  theirs  is  far  too  powerful  a  factor 
for  good.  Even  Wahneenah,  who  kiiows  better 
and  is  to  me  as  a  real  mother,  even  she  treats  me  a 
little  more  deferentially  when  I  attire  myself  like 
this." 

"  Put  on  your  war  paint,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed:  my  peace  paint,"  laughed  the  girl. 
"  The  messenger  you  saw  talking  with  Wahneenah 
and  me  is  from  an  encampment  a  dozen  miles  or  so 
to  the  westward.  There  are  about  five  hundred 
Indians  in  the  camp,  and  they  are  getting  restless. 
They  are  always  restless,  it  seems  to  me,"  and  she 
sighed  profoundly.  "  It  is  such  a  problem,  is  n't  it  ? 
They  think  they  have  right  on  their  side,  and  the 
whites  think  they  have;  and  there  is  so  much  that  is 
good,  so  much  that  is  evil,  on  both.  Well,  the  red 
people  are  planning  treachery.  The  brave  you  saw 
is  a  real  friend  to  the  pale-faces,  and  one  of  my 
closest  confidants.  He  came  to  warn  me.  His 
tribe,  or  the  mixed  tribes  in  the  camp,  are  getting 
ready  for  an  attack  upon  us,  or  some  other  near-by 
settlement.  I  must  go  out  and  stop  it, — find  out 
their  grievance  and  right  it  if  I  can.  If  not —  Well, 
I  must  make  peace.     I   may  be   gone    for   several 


238  The  Sun  Maid. 

days,  and  I  may  be  back  before  morning.  You 
must  make  yourselves  comfortable  somewhere.  Ask 
Doctor  Littlejohn.  If  he  is  too  absorbed  in  his 
studies,  then  talk  with  One,  his  eldest  son.  He  is 
a  fine  fellow,  and  knows  everything  about  this  vil- 
lage.     Good-by." 

"  But,  child  alive!  You  ain't  going  alone,  single- 
handed,  to  face  five  hundred  bloody  Indians!  You 
must  be  crazy !  ' ' 

"  Oh,  no,  I  'm  not.  It  is  all  right.  I  am  not 
afraid.  There  is  n't  an  Indian  living  who  would 
harm  a  hair  of  my  head,  if  he  knew  me ;  and  almost 
all  in  Illinois  do  know  me,  either  by  sight  or  reputa- 
tion. I  am  very  happy  with  them  and  shall  have  a 
pleasant  visit ;  that  is,  after  I  have  dissuaded  them 
from  this  proposed  attack." 

"  Kit,  you  could  n't  do  it.  'T  ain't  in  nature. 
A  young  girl,  alone,  pretty  as  you  are  —  You 
sha  nt  do  it, — not  with  my  consent ;  not  while  I  'm 
alive  and  can  set  a  horse  or  handle  a  gun.  No, 
sirree.  If  you  go,  I  go,  and  that  's  the  long  and 
short  of  it." 

"  No,  dear  Father  Abel ;  you  must  not  go ;  indeed 
you  must  not.  It  would  ruin  everything.  It  makes 
me  very  sad  to  have  these  constant  broils  and  ill- 
feelings  coming  up  between  my  white-faced  and  red- 
faced  friends;  yet  the  Lord  permits  it,  and  I  try  to 
be  patient.      But  I  tell  you  again,  and  you  must 


A  Day  of  Happenings.  239 

believe  it,  that  I  am  as  safe  out  yonder  in  that  camp 
of  savages  as  I  am  here,  this  minute,  with  you.  I 
am  the  Sun  Maid,  the  Unafraid,  the  Daughter 
of  Peace,  the  Snovvflake.  They  have  as  many 
names  for  me  as  I  am  years  old,  I  fancy.  Each 
name  means  some  noble  thing  they  think  they  see 
in  my  character,  and  so  I  try  to  live  up  to  it.  It  's 
hard  work,  though,  because  I  'm — well,  I  'm  so 
quick-tempered  and  full  of  faults.  But  I  suppose  if 
God  did  n't  mean  me  to  do  this  work,  be  a  sort  of 
peacemaker,  He  would  n't  have  made  me  just  as  I 
am  or  put  me  in  just  this  place.  That  's  what  the 
Doctor  says,  and  so  I  do  the  best  I  can.  After  all, 
it  's  a  great  honor,  I  think,  to  be  let  to  serve  people 
in  this  way,  and  so —     Good-by,  good-by !  " 

The  Snowbird  sprang  forward  at  a  word  and,  by 
experience  trained  to  shun  the  sloughs  and  mud- 
holes,  skimmed  lightly  across  the  prairie  and  out  of 
sight.  The  Smiths  stood  and  watched  its  disappear- 
ance, and  the  erect  white  figure  upon  its  back,  till 
both  became  a  speck  in  the  distance.  Then,  com- 
pletely dumfounded  by  the  incident,  Abel  sat  down 
near  the  door-step  to  reflect  upon  it,  while  the  more 
energetic  Mercy  departed  for  the  Fort,  declaring: 

"  I  '11  see  what  that  all  means,  or  I  '11  never  say 
another  word  's  long  as  I  live!  The  idee!  Men — 
folks  calling  themselves  vicn — and  wearing  govern- 
ment breeches,  as  I  suppose  they  do,  letting  a  girl 


240  The  Sun  Maid. 

like  that  go  to  destruction  without  a  soul  to  stop 
her !  But,  my  land !  she  was  a  sight  to  see,  and  no 
mistake!  " 

Meanwhile  that  was  happening  down  at  the  little 
wharf  which  set  all  tongues  a-chatter  and  fascinated 
all  eyes. 

"  A  fleet  is  coming  in  !  A  regular  fleet  of  schoon- 
ers, from  the  north  and  the  upper  lakes!  " 

Those  who  had  not  gone  hunting  crowded  to  the 
shore,  and  even  the  women  caught  their  babies  up 
and  followed  the  men,  Abel  among  the  others, 
roused  from  his  anxious  brooding  over  the  Sun 
Maid's  daring  and  catching  the  excitement. 

"  Shucks!  Something  must  be  up  down  that 
direction.  Beats  all.  Here  I  've  been  only  part  of 
a  day,  and  more  things  have  gone  on  than  would  at 
our  clearing  in  a  month  of  Sundays.  I — I  'm  all  of 
a  fluster  to  kind  of  keep  my  head  level  an'  my  judg- 
ment cool.  'T  would  n't  never  do  to  let  on  to  ma 
how  stirred  up  I  be.  Dear  me!  Seems  as  if  I 
would  n't  never  get  there.  I  do  hope  they  '11  wait 
till  I  do." 

After  all,  it  was  the  quietest  and  drowsiest  of  little 
hamlets,  dropped  down  in  the  mud  beside  a  great 
waterway;  and  the  "  fleet,'  which  had  roused  so 
much  interest,  was  but  a  modest  one  of  a  half-dozen 
small  schooners,  laden  with  furs  and  peltries  and 
manned  by  the  smallest  of  crews. 


A  Day  of  Happenings.  241 

However,  to  Abel,  and  to  many  anotlier,  it  was  a 
memorable  event ;  and  he  made  a  pause  at  the  Fort, 
which  in  itself  was  an  object  of  great  interest  to  him, 
to  inform  Mercy  of  the  spectacle  she  was  losing. 

"  Come  on,  ma!  It  's  a  regular  show  down  there. 
Real  sailors  and  ships — we  hain't  seen  the  like  since 
we  left  the  East  and  the  coast  of  old  Massachu- 
setts." 

"  Ships  ?  My  heart!  I  never  expected  to  look 
upon  another.     Just  to  think  it!  " 

The  foremost  vessel  came  to  shore  and  was  made 
fast;  and  there  upon  its  deck  stood  a  tall,  dark- 
bearded  man,  who  appeared  what  he  w^as — the  com- 
mander of  the  fleet;  and  he  gave  his  orders  in  a 
clear,  ringing  voice  that  was  instantly  obeyed.  His 
manner  was  grave,  even  melancholy  ;  and  his  interest 
in  the  safe  landing  seemed  greater  than  in  any  per- 
son among  the  expectant  groups.  He  had  tossed 
his  hat  aside  and  waited  bareheaded  in  the  sun- 
shine till  all  was  ready,  when  he  stepped  quietly 
ashore. 

Then,  indeed,  he  cast  an  inquiring  glance  around, 
in  the  possibility,  though  not  probability,  of  meet- 
ing a  familiar  face.  All  at  once,  his  dark  eyes 
brightened  and  his  bearing  lost  its  indifference. 
Pushing  his  way  rapidly  through  the  crowd,  he 
approached  Abel  and  Mercy  and  extended  his 
hands  in  greeting. 


242  The  Sun  Maid. 

"  Hail,  old  friends!     Well  met!  " 

**  Hey  ?  What  ?  Ruther  think  you  've  got  the 
better  of  me,  stranger,"  said  the  pioneer,  awkwardly 
extending  his  own  hardened  palm. 

"  Probably  the  years  since  we  met  have  made  a 
greater  change  in  me  than  in  you.  You  both  look 
exactly  as  you  did  that  last  day  I  saw  you  at  the 
harvesting." 

"  Hey  ?  Which  ?  When  ?  I  can't  place  you, 
no  how.  I  ain't  acquainted  with  ary  sailor,  so  far 
forth  as  I  remember." 

"  But  Caspar,  Father  Abel  ?  Surely,  you  and 
Mercy  remember  Caspar  Keith,  whom  you  sheltered 
for  so  many  years,  and  who  treated  you  so  badly  at 
the  end  ?  " 

"  Glory!  It  ain't!  My  soul,  my  soul!  Why, 
Caspar — Caspar  !  If  it  's  you,  I  'm  an  old  man. 
Why,  you  was  only  a  stripling,  and  now " 

"  Now,  I  'm  a  man,  too.  That  's  all.  We 
all  have  to  grow  up  and  mature.  I  feel  older 
than  you  look.  And  Mercy,  the  years  have  cer- 
tainly used  you  well.  It  is  good,  indeed,  to  see 
your  faces  here,  where  I  looked  for  strangers 
only." 

"  Them  's  us,  lad.  Them  's  us.  We  're  the 
strangers  in  these  parts.  Just  struck  Chicago  this 
very  day.  Cot  stuck  in  the  mud,  and  had  to  be 
fished  out  like  a  couple  of  clams.     And  who  do  you 


A  Day  of  Happenings.  243 

think  done  the  fishing  ?  Though,  if  you  had  n't 
spoke  that  odd  way  just  now,  I  'd  have  thought 
you  would  have  known  first  off.  Who  do  you  sup- 
pose ?  " 

Oh,  he  '11  never  guess.  A  man  is  always  so 
slow,"  interrupted  Mercy,  eagerly.  "  Well,  't  was 
nobody  but  our  own  little  Kit!  The  Sun  Maid, 
and  looking  more  like  a  child  of  the  sunshine  even 
than  when  you  run  off  with  her  so  long  ago." 

"  The— Sun— Maid  !     Kit-ty,  my  Kitty  ?  " 

Caspar's  face  had  paled  at  the  mention  of  the  Sun 
Maid  to  such  a  grayness  beneath  its  brown  that 
Mercy  reached  her  hand  to  stay  him  from  falling; 
but  at  his  second  question  her  womanly  intuition 
told  her  something  of  the  truth. 

"  Yes,  Caspar,  boy.  Your  Kitty,  and  ours.  We 
had  n't  seen  her  till  to-day,  neither;  not  since  that 
harvestin'.  But  the  longing  got  too  strong  and, 
when  we  was  burnt  out,  we  came  straight  for  her. 
Did  n't  you  know  she  was  here  yet  ?  Or  did  n't  you 
know  she  was  still  alive  ?  " 

"  No.  No,  I  did  n't.  That  very  next  winter 
after  I  went  away — and  that  was  the  next  day  after 
we  came  here  together — an  Indian  passed  where  I 
was  hunting  with  my  master  and  told  me  she  had 
died.  He  was  one  we  had  known  at  Muck-otey- 
pokee — the  White  Pelican.  He  said  a  scourge  of 
smallpox  had  swept  the  Fort  and  this  settlement 


ft 
244  The  Sun  Maid. 

and  that  my  little  maid  had  passed  out  of  the  world 
forever.  But  you  tell  me — she  is  alive  ?  After  all 
these  years  of  sorrow  for  her,  she  is  still  alive  ?  I — 
it  is  hard  to  believe  it." 

Mercy  laid  her  hand  upon  the  strong  shoulder 
that  now  trembled  in  excitement. 

"  There,  there,  son;  take  it  quiet.  Yes,  she  's 
alive,  and  the  most  beautiful  woman  the  good 
Lord  ever  made.  Never,  even  in  the  East,  where 
girls  had  time  to  grow  good-looking,  was  there  ever 
anybody  like  her.  I  ain't  used  to  it  myself,  yet.  I 
can't  realize  it.  She  's  that  well  growed,  and  eddi- 
cated,  and  masterful.  Why,  child,  the  whole  com- 
munity looks  up  to  her  as  if  she  were  a  sort  of 
queen.  I  've  found  that  out  in  just  the  few  hours 
I  've  been  here,  and  from  just  the  few  I  've  met. 
Even  Wahneeny — she  's  here,  too;  has  been  most 
all  the  time.  The  Black  Partridge,  Indian  chief,  he 
that  was  her  brother,  that  took  care  of  you  two 
children  when  the  massacre  was,  he  did  n't  expect 
she  'd  ever  come  again ;  but  still,  it  appears,  just  on 
the  chance  of  it,  he  rode  off  up  country  somewhere, 
and  he  happened  to  strike  her  trail,  and  that  Os- 
ceolo's — the  scamp  —  that  had  run  off  with  Kitty's 
white  horse,  and  fetched  'em  all  back.  The  women 
in  the  Fort  was  tellin'  me  the  whole  story  just  now. 
I  hain't  got  a  word  out  of  Wahneeny,  yet.  She  's 
as  close-mouthed  as  she  ever  was;  but  there  's  more 


A  Day  of  Happenings.  245 

to  hear  than  you  could  hark  to  in  a  day's  ride,  and 
— Where  you  going,  Gaspar  ?  " 

"  To  find  my  Kitty." 

"  Well,  you  need  n't.  And  I  don't  know  as 
she  's  any  more  yours  than  she  is  ours,  seein'  we 
really  had  the  credit  of  raisin'  her.  For  she  's  took 
her  life  in  her  hand,  and  has  gone  alone,  without  ary 
man  to  protect  her,  out  across  the  prairie  to  face 
five  hunderd  Indians  on  the  war-path,  and  —  Hold 
on !     What  you  up  to  ?  " 

The  sailor,  or  hunter,  whichever  he  might  be,  had 
started  along  the  foot-path  to  the  Fort,  and  halted, 
half  angrily,  at  this  interruption. 

"  Well  ?  What  ?  I  '11  see  you  by  and  by.  I 
must  find  Kitty!  " 

"  Right  you  are,  lad.  Find  her,  and  fetch  her 
back.  And,  say !  Mercy  says  your  own  old  Tem- 
pest horse  is  in  the  stable  at  the  Fort ;  that  it  now 
belongs  to  the  Sun  Maid,  and  she  's  the  only  one 
who  ever  rides  it.  The  Captain  gave  it  to  her  be- 
cause she  grieved  so  about  you.  I  would  n't  won- 
der if  he  'd  travel  nigh  as  fast  as  he  used — when  he 
run  away  before.  I  never  saw  the  beat  of  you  two 
young  ones!  As  fast  as  a  body  catches  up  to  you, 
off  you  run  !  " 

Even  amid  the  anxiety  now  renewed  in  Abel's 
mind  regarding  Kitty,  the  humorous  side  of  the 
situation  appealed  to  him  ;  but  there  was  no  answer- 


246  The  Sun  Maid. 

ing  smile  on  Caspar's  face;  only  an  anxiety  and 
yearning  beyond  the  comprehension  of  either  of 
these  honest,  simple  souls. 

"  Well,  go  on,  then.  Run  your  beatingest,  in  a 
bee  line,  due  west.  That  's  the  way  she  took,  and 
that  's  the  trail  you  '11  find  her  on,  if  so  be  you  find 
her  at  all. ' ' 

Those  at  the  Fort  looked,  wondered,  but  did  not 
object,  as  this  dark  voyageiir  strode  straight  into  the 
stables  and  to  a  box  stall  where  Tempest  enjoyed  a 
life  of  pampered  indolence.  They  realized  that  this 
was  no  stranger,  but  one  to  whom  all  things  were 
familiar  —  even  the  animal  which  answered  so 
promptly  to  the  cry  : 

Tempest,  old  fellow!  " 

It  was  a  voice  he  had  never  forgotten.  The  black 
gelding's  handsome  head  tossed  in  a  thrill  of  delight, 
and  the  answering  neigh  to  that  love  call  was  good 
to  hear.  In  a  moment  Caspar  had  found  a  saddle, 
slipped  it  into  place,  and,  scarcely  waiting  to  tighten 
its  girth,  had  leaped  upon  the  animal's  back. 

Forward,  Tempest!     Be  true  to  your  name!  " 

Those  who  saw  the  rush  of  the  gallant  creature 
through  the  open  gates  of  the  stockade  acknow- 
ledged that  he  would  be. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

WESTWARD   AND    EASTWARD    OVER   THE    PRAIRIE. 

FAST,  Tempest,  fast!" 
The  sunshine  was  in  his  eyes,  and  a  warmer 
sunshine  in  his  heart,  as  Caspar  urged  the  gelding 
forward. 

Fast  it  was.  The  faithful  creature  recognized  the 
burden  he  carried,  and  his  clean,  small  feet  reeled 
off  the  distance  like  magic,  till  the  village  by  the 
lake  was  left  far  behind,  and  only  the  limitless  prairie 
stretched  beyond.  Yet  still  there  was  no  sign  of 
the  Snowbird  along  the  horizon,  nor  any  point  dis- 
cernible where  an  Indian  encampment  might  be. 

At  length  the  rider  paused  to  consider  the  matter. 

"  It  's  strange  I  don't  see  her.  If  she  were  cross- 
ing the  level,  anywhere,  I  should,  for  my  eyes  are 
trained  to  long  distances.  It  must  be  that  Abel 
gave  me  the  wrong  direction.  I  '11  turn  north,  and 
try." 

But,   keen-sighted  though  he  was,   for  once  the 
woodsman  blundered.     Between  him  and  the  lower- 
ing sun  the  prairie  dipped  and  rose  again,  the  two 
borders  of  the  hidden  valley  seeming  to  meet  in  one 
247 


248  The  Sun  Maid. 

unbroken  plain.  It  was  in  this  Httle  depression 
that  the  wigwams  were  pitched,  and  among  them 
the  Sun  Maid  was  already  moving  and  pleading 
with  her  friends  for  patience  and  peace. 

Meanwhile,  Caspar  continued  on  his  chosen  route, 
at  a  direct  right  angle  from  that  he  should  have  fol- 
lowed, till  the  twilight  came  down  and  the  whole 
landscape  was  swathed  in  mist.  For  there  had  been 
heavy  rains  of  late,  and  the  vapor  rose  from  the 
soaked  and  sun-warmed  earth  like  a  great  white  pall, 
filling  the  hunter's  nostrils  and  blinding  his  sight. 

"  Well,  this  is  hopeless.  I  might  ride  over  her 
and  not  find  her  in  this  fog.  But  I  can't  stay  here. 
It 's  choking.  Heaven  grant  my  Kitty  's  safe  under 
shelter  somewhere.  My  own  safety  is  to  keep 
moving.  Good  boy.  Tempest !  Take  it  easy,  but 
don't  stop." 

After  that,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  trust  the 
horse's  instinct  to  find  a  path  through  the  mist  and 
to  be  grateful  that  the  ground  was  so  level. 

"  It  's  a  long  lane  that  has  no  turning.  It  must 
be  that  we  '11  strike  something  different  after  a 
while;  if  not  a  settler's  house,  at  least  a  clump  of 
trees.  Any  shelter  would  be  better  than  none,  in 
this  creeping  moisture.  It  would  be  easy  to  get 
lost;  and  what  a  situation!  Oh!  if  I  knew  that  she 
was  out  of  it.  A  messenger  to  the  Indians,  eh  ? 
My  little  Kit,  my  dainty  foster-sister!  " 


Over  the  Prairie.  249 

The  gelding's  nose  was  to  the  ground  and,  as  a 
dog  would  have  done,  he  picked  his  way,  cautiously, 
yet  surely,  straight  north  where  lay,  though  Gaspar 
did  not  know  it,  a  settler's  clearing  and  comfortable 
cabin.  The  rider's  thoughts  passed  from  his  present 
surroundings  back  to  the  past  and  forward  to  the 
future;  and  when  there  sounded,  almost  at  his  feet, 
a  cry  of  distress  he  did  not  hear  it  in  his  absorption. 

But  Tempest  did.  At  the  second  wail  he  stopped 
short,  and  it  was  this  that  roused  Gaspar  from  his 
reverie. 

"  Tired,  old  Tempest,  boy  ?  It  won't  do  to  rest 
here.  Take  a  breath,  if  you  like,  and  get  on  again. 
Keeping  at  it  is  salvation." 

Mamma!     I  want — my — mamma!" 

"  Whew!     What  's  that  ?      Hello  !  " 

The  sound  was  not  repeated,  and  yet  Tempest 
would  not  advance. 

Hello  !  "  shouted  Gaspar;  and  after  a  moment 
of  strained  listening,  again  he  caught  the  echo  of  a 
child's  sob. 

My  God!     A  baby — here!     Lost  in  this  fog!  " 

He  was  off  his  horse  and  down  upon  his  knees, 
reaching,  feeling,  creeping  —  calling  gently,  and 
finally  touching  the  cold,  drenched  garment  of  the 
child  he  could  not  see. 

In  its  terror  at  this  fresh  danger  the  little  one 
shrieked   and    rolled    away ;    but   the   man   lifted   it 


250  The  Sun  Maid. 

tenderly,  and  soothed  it  with  kind  words  till  its 
shrieks  ceased  and  it  clung  close  to  its  rescuer. 

"  There,  there,  poor  baby !  How  came  you  here  ? 
Don't  be  afraid.  I  '11  take  you  home.  Tempest 
will  find  the  way.  Feel  —  the  good  horse  knows. 
It  was  he  that  found  you ;  we  '11  get  on  his  back 
and  ride  straight  to  mamma,  for  whom  you  called." 

Climbing  slowly  back  into  his  saddle,  because  of 
the  little  one  he  held  so  carefully,  Caspar  laid  its 
cold  hand  upon  the  gelding's  neck,  but  it  slid  list- 
lessly aside  and  he  realized  that  he  had  come  not  a 
moment  too  soon. 

All  night  they  wandered,  the  child  lying  on 
Caspar's  breast  wrapped  in  his  coat,  while  the  mist 
penetrated  his  own  clothing  and  seemed  to  creep 
into  his  very  thoughts,  numbing  them  to  a  sort  of 
despair  that  no  effort  could  cast  off.  The  wail  of 
the  child  lost  in  that  dreariness  had  brought  back, 
like  a  lightning's  flash,  the  earliest  memories  of  his 
life  and  revived  his  never-dying  hatred  of  his 
parent's  slayers. 

"  An  Indian's  hand  was  in  this  work!  "  he  mused. 
"Doubtless,  the  mother  for  whom  it  grieved  has  met 
the  fate  which  befell  my  own.  And  Abel  said  that 
it  was  among  such  as  these  my  Sun  Maid  had 
gone!  " 

Then  justice  called  to  mind  his  knowledge  of 
Wahneenah,  of  the  Black  Partridge,  old  Winnemeg, 


Over  the  Prairie.  251 

and  others,  and  his  mood  softened  somewhat;  but 
still  memory  tormented  him  and  the  white  fog 
seemed  a  background  for  ghastly  scenes  too  awful 
for  words.  Above  all  and  through  all,  one  con- 
sciousness was  keener  and  fiercer  than  the  others: 

"  My  Kitty  is  among  them  at  this  moment!  O, 
God,  keep  her!  " 

It  was  the  strongest  cry  of  his  yearning  heart ;  yet 
underneath  lay  an  impotent  rage  at  his  own  power- 
lessness  to  help  in  this  preservation. 

For  what  is  my  manhood  or  my  courage  worth 
to  her  now  ?  And  even  the  Deity  seems  veiled  by 
this  deadening,  suffocating  mist !  " 

But  Tempest  moved  steadily  on  once  more, 
and  the  little  child  warmed  to  life  on  his  breast ; 
and  by  degrees  the  man's  self  -  torment  ceased. 
Then  he  lifted  his  eyes  afresh  and  struggled  to 
pierce  the  gloom. 

What  was  that  ?  A  light  !  A  little  yellow 
spot  in  the  gray  whiteness,  which  the  horse  was  first 
to  see  and  toward  which  he  now  hastened  with  a 
firmer  speed. 

"  It  's  a  fire.  No,  a  lamp  in  a  house  window. 
There,  it  's  gone.  A  will-o'-the-wisp  by  some 
hidden  pool.  It  shines  again.  Well,  Tempest  sees 
it  and  believes  in  it." 

The  man  lacked  the  animal's  faith,  and  even  when 
they  had  come  to  within  a  short  distance  of  the 


252  The  Sun  Maid. 

glow,  the  clouds  of  vapor  swept  between  it  and 
them  and  Caspar  checked  Tempest's  advance.  But 
at  last  a  slight  wind  rose,  and  the  mist  which  rolled 
toward  them  was  tinged  with  the  odor  of  smoke,  so 
the  rider  knew  that  his  first  surmise  had  been  correct. 

"It  is  a  fire.  A  settler's  cabin,  probably  once 
this  lost  child's  home.     The  red  man's  work  !  " 

When  he  reached  the  very  spot  there  were,  indeed, 
the  remnants  of  a  great  burning,  yet  in  the  circle  of 
the  light  Caspar  saw  a  house  still  standing.  He  was 
at  its  threshold  promptly,  and  entered  through  its 
open  door  upon  a  scene  of  desolation.  A  woman 
crouched  by  the  hearth  that  was  strewn  with  ashes, 
and  her  moans  echoed  through  the  gloom  with  so 
much  of  agony  in  them  that  the  stranger's  worst 
fears  were  confirmed.  Then  he  caught  her  mur- 
mured words,  and  they  were  all  of  one  tenor: 

"  My  baby!  my  baby!  my  baby!  My  one  lost 
little  child  !     The  wolves — my  little  one — my  all !  " 

Caspar  strode  into  the  room,  lighted  only  by  the 
fitful  glare  from  the  ruins  without,  and  gently  spoke : 

"  Don't  grieve  like  that!  The  child  is  safe.  It 
is  here  in  my  arms." 

"  What  ?     Safe!  safe!  " 

The  mother  was  up,  and  had  caught  the  little  one 
from  him  before  the  words  had  left  her  lips,  and  the 
passion  of  her  rejoicing  brought  the  tears  to  the 
man's  eyes  as  her  sorrow  had  not  done. 


Over  the  Prairie.  253 

After  a  moment,  she  was  able  to  speak  clearly  and 
to  demand  his  story.     Then  she  gave  hers. 

"  I  was  here  alone.  My  husband  had  gone  hunt- 
ing, and  I  went  into  the  barn  to  seek  for  eggs.  The 
loft  was  dark " 

"  Spare  yourself.     I  can  guess.     The  Indians." 

"  The  Indians  ?  No,  indeed.  Myself.  My  own 
carelessness.  I  carried  a  candle,  and  dropped  it. 
The  hay  caught.  I  barely  escaped  from  having  my 
clothing  burned  on  me;  but  I  did.  Then  I  forgot 
everything  except  my  terrible  loss  and  my  husband's 
anger  when  he  returns.  I  began  to  fight  the  fire. 
I  remember  my  little  one  crying  with  fright,  but  I 
paid  no  attention,  and  when  at  length  I  realized 
that  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  save  our  stock  I 
stopped  to  look  for  him.  Fortunately,  the  cabin 
was  too  far  from  the  barn  to  catch  easily,  and  there 
was  a  wind  blowing  the  other  way.  That  's  all  that 
saved  the  home ;  yet,  when  I  missed  my  baby,  I 
wished  that  it  would  burn,  too,  and  me  with  it. 
Life  without  him  would  be  a  living  death.  And 
he  would  have  died,  any  way.  The  wolves  are 
awful  troublesome  this  spring.  We  've  lost  more 
than  twenty  of  our  hogs  and  the  only  pair  of  sheep 
we  had.  So  husband  joined  a  party  and  went  out 
to  hunt  them.  What  will  he  say,  what  will  he  say, 
when  he  comes  back!  " 

In  Caspar's  heart  there  sprang  up  a  great  happiness. 


254  The  Sun  Maid. 

The  ill  which  had  happened  here  was  so  much 
less  than  he  had  anticipated  that  he  took  cour- 
age for  himself.  After  all,  the  Sun  Maid  might 
be  safe,  as  Abel  had  declared  she  said  she  should 
be.  He  remembered,  at  last,  that  not  all  men  are 
evil,  even  red  ones;  and  in  the  reaction  of  his  own 
feelings,  he  exclaimed : 

"  What  can  he  say,  but  give  thanks  that  no  worse 
befell  him !  " 

However,  now  that  her  child  was  safe  within  her 
arms,  the  woman  began  to  suffer  in  advance  the 
torment  she  would  have  to  undergo  when  she  faced 
her  indignant  husband;  and  she  retorted  sharply: 

"  Worse!  Well,  I  suppose  so.  But  I  don't  see 
why  in  the  name  of  common  sense  I  was  let  to  be 
such  a  fool  in  the  first  place.  He  won't,  neither. 
It  's  all  very  well  when  you  've  lost  half  your  prop- 
erty to  give  thanks  for  not  losing  your  life,  too;  but 
I  don't  see  any  cause  for  losing  ary  one." 

This  sounded  so  like  Mercy  and  her  philosophy 
that  Caspar  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  ;  which 
angered  his  new  friend  first,  and  then  affected  her, 
also,  with  something  of  his  mirth. 

I  can't  see  a  thing  to  laugh  at,  I,  for  one,"  she 
remarked,  trying  to  be  stern. 

Oh!  but  I  can.  And  I  'm  not  a  laughing  man, 
in  ordinary.  But  there  's  one  thing  I  know  —  I  'm 
powerful  hungry.     Can't  we  make  another  fire,  one 


Over  the  Prairie.  255 

that  we  can  control,  and  get  a  bit  of  supper  ?  If 
there  's  anything  in  the  house  to  cook,  1  can  cook 
it  while  you  tend  baby.  Then  we  '11  talk  over  your 
affairs. " 

"  There's  plenty  to  cook,  but  you  '11  not  cook  it, 
sir.  I  owe  you  my  child's  life,  and  now  things  are 
getting  straighter  in  my  muddled  mind.  I  lost  the 
barn  for  Jacob,  and  I  must  help  replace  it.  I  've 
been  a  hard  worker  always,  but  I  can  stretch  another 
point,  I  guess.  Pshaw!  I  believe  it 's  getting  day- 
light. It  '11  be  breakfast  instead  of  supper,  this 
time." 

It  was  daylight,  indeed ;  and  in  a  half-hour  the 
simple  meal  was  smoking  on  the  table,  and  Caspar 
sitting  to  eat  it  with  the  hearty  appetite  of  a  man 
who  has  lived  always  out-of-doors.  But  he  could 
talk  as  fast  as  eat,  when  he  was  anxious  as  on  that 
morning;  and  before  he  had  drained  his  last  cup  of 
the  "  rye  coffee  "  he  had  learned  from  his  hostess 
that  the  Indian  encampment  he  sought  lay  well  to 
the  southwestward  of  her  cabin,  and  that  by  a  way 
she  could  direct  him  he  could  reach  it  easily  in  a 
two-hours'  ride.  This  to  Tempest,  who  had  rested 
and  fed,  would  be  nothing,  if  he  was  anything  the 
horse  he  used  to  be,  and  Caspar  believed,  from  the 
past  night's  experience,  that  sometimes  even  a  horse 
can  improve  with  age. 

"  Well,  I  '11  be  off,  then.      I  'm  anxious  to  get 


256  The  Sun  Maid. 

there.  If  all  goes  well  I  '11  get  around  this  way 
again  before  long.  Thank  you  for  my  entertain- 
ment, and  here  's  a  trifle  for  the  baby." 

He  tossed  a  gold  piece  on  the  table  and  was  leav- 
ing the  cabin.     But  she  restrained  him. 

"  No,  sir,  I  can't  take  that,  nor  let  the  little  one. 
And  as  for  thanking  me,  I  shall  never  cease  to 
thank  you,  and  the  Lord  for  you,  that  you  lost  your 
way  last  night.  But  let  me  beg  you,  sir,  to  take  a 
second  thought.  Jacob  says  the  Indians  are  getting 
ready  for  an  outbreak.  It  is  like  running  your  neck 
into  a  halter  to  go  among  them  just  now.  I  —  I 
wish  you  would  n't.  I  could  n't  bear  to  have  harm 
come  to  you  after  what  you  've  done  for  me." 

"  Thank  you,  but  I  must  go.  I  am  not  much 
afraid  for  myself  at  any  time,  for  I  've  known  the 
red-skins  always  and  —  trusted  them  never!  But  a 
girl  —  did  you  ever  hear  of  the  Sun  Maid  ?  " 

"  Hear  of  her  ?  Her  ?  Well,  I  guess  so!  Who 
has  n't,  in  these  parts  ?     Why  ? " 

"  It  was  to  find  her  and  protect  her  that  I  started 
last  night  from  the  Fort." 

To  protect  her  ?  Well,  you  could  have  saved 
your  trouble.  I  wish  that  I  was  as  safe  in  this  wild 
country  as  she  is.  There  is  an  old  saying  that  her 
life  is  charmed ;  that  nothing  evil  can  ever  happen 
to  her;  and  so  far  it  has  proved  true.  As  for  the 
Indians,  even  the  wickedest  in  the  whole  race  would 


Over  the  Prairie.  257 

die  to  save  her  life,  I  hope  you  '11  find  her,  sir,  all 
right;  but  if  there  's  any  protecting  to  be  done, 
she  '11  protect  you,  not  you  her.  Well,  good-by, 
and  good  luck!  " 

Caspar  bared  his  head  and  rode  away,  on  a 
straight  trail  this  time,  and  with  the  exhilaration  of 
the  morning  tingling  through  his  healthful  veins. 
On  every  side  the  great  clouds  of  white  mist  rose 
and  rolled  apart.  Blue  violets  and  white  wind- 
flowers  began  to  peep  upward  at  him  from  his  path, 
and  he  remembered  Kitty's  love  for  them.  Then 
the  sun  broke  through,  and  only  those  who  have 
thus  ridden  across  a  dew-drenched  prairie,  at  such 
an  hour  in  such  a  season,  can  picture  what  that  ride 
was  like. 

The  spirit  of  life  and  love  and  that  glorious  morn- 
ing thrilled  both  hor:e  and  master  as  they  leaped 
forward  and  still  forward  till,  on  the  top  of  a  grassy 
rise,  a  sudden  halt  was  made. 

For  what  was  this  coming  out  of  the  west  ?  —  this 

fair  white  creature  on   her  snowy  mount,  with  the 

golden    sunlight   on    her   yellow   hair,    her   glowing 

face,  her  modest  maiden  breast.     Flowers  wreathed 

her  all  about  and   a  White   Bow  gleamed   at  her 

saddle  horn.      Behind  her,  and  one  on   either  side, 

rode  dusky  warriors,  brave  in  their  finest  trappings 

and   turning  a  reverent,  attentive  ear  to  the  Maid's 

words.      Their   horses'   footfalLs   deadened    by  the 
17 


258  The  Sun  Maid. 

sodden  grass,  slowly  they  came  into  fuller  view,  as  a 
picture  grows  under  the  painter's  brush. 

Still  the  man  on  the  black  horse  facing  them  sat 
still,  spellbound.  Could  this  be  Kitty,  his  Kitty; 
to  whom  his  thoughts  had  turned  as  to  a  half- 
grown,  playful  child,  and  over  whom  he  had  dom- 
ineered with  the  masterful  pride  of  boyhood  ?  He 
was  a  man  now,  boyhood  was  past;  but  he  had 
quite  forgotten  that  girlhood  also  passes  and  the 
child  becomes  a  woman. 

He  had  grown  rich  and  strong.  After  her  sup- 
posed death  he  had  devoted  himself  wholly  to 
money-getting  with  the  singleness  of  purpose  that 
never  fails  of  its  object.  He  had  come  back  to  his 
old  home  to  spend  the  fortune  he  had  gained,  feel- 
ing himself  a  master  among  men  and  his  strength 
that  of  wisdom  as  well  as  wealth. 

Now  all  his  pride  and  arrogance  passed  from  him 
before  the  nobility  of  this  woman  approaching. 
For  on  her  youthful  face  sat  the  dignity  which  is 
higher  than  pride  and  from  her  beautiful  eyes 
gleamed  the  beneficent  love  more  far-reaching  than 
wealth. 

After  a  moment  Caspar  rode  slowly  forward  again, 
and  soon  espying,  but  not  recognizing,  him,  the 
Sun  Maid  advanced.  Then  all  at  once  the  black 
horse  and  the  white  galloped  to  a  meet. 

"  Kitty!     My  Kitty!  " 


"  KITTY  !    MY    KITTY  !  " 


Fci^e  2j;S. 


Over  the  Prairie.  259 

"  Caspar!  " 

Their  hands  closed  in  a  clasp  that  banished  years 
of  separation,  and  the  black  eyes  searched  the  blue, 
questioning  for  the  one  sweet  answer  that  rules  all 
the  world.  There  was  a  swift  self-revelation  in  both 
hearts;  a  consciousness  that  this  was  what  the  God 
who  made  them  had  meant  from  the  beginning. 
With  a  grave  exaltation  too  deep  and  too  high  for 
words,  the  pure  man  and  the  pure  woman  came  to 
their  destiny  and  accepted  it.  Then  their  hands 
fell  apart,  the  black  Tempest  wheeled  into  place 
beside  the  white  Snowbird,  and,  as  on  a  day  long 
in  the  past,  the  pair  passed  swiftly  and  lightly  east- 
ward toward  the  lakeside  village  and  their  home. 

"  Ugh!  The  Sun  Maid  has  found  her  mate!" 
muttered  the  foremost  warrior  grimly,  and  followed 
with  his  company  at  a  soberer  pace. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   CROOKED   LOG. 

"  f  TELL  you  what,  Chicago  's  a-growing.  First 
i  zve  come;  then  Caspar;  then  Kitty  and  him 
get  married ;  and  I  go  to  keeping  tavern  in  the 
parson's  house;  and  his  son,  One,  goes  up  north  to 
take  a  place  in  Caspar's  business;  and  Caspar  sends 
Two  and  Three  east  to  study  law  and  medicine;  and 
Four  and  his  pa  come  to  board  in  our  tavern ;  and 
Osceolo — —  " 

"  For  the  land's  sake,  Abel  Smith,  do  hold  your 
tongue.  Here  you  Ve  got  to  be  as  big  a  talker  as 
old  Deacon  Slim,  that  I  used  to  hear  about,  who 
begun  the  minute  he  woke  up  and  never  stopped 
till  his  wife  tied  his  mouth  shut  at  night.  Even 
then " 

Mercy,  Mercy!  Take  care.  Set  me  a  good 
example,  if  you  can;  but  don't  go  to  denying  that 
this  is  a  growin'  village." 

I  've  no  call  to  deny  it.     Why  should  I  ?     But, 

say,  Abel,  just  step  round  to  the  store,  won't  you, 

an'    buy  me  some    of   that  turkey   red   calico   was 

brought  in  on  the  last  team  from  the  East.     I  'd 

260 


The  Crooked   Log.  261 

admire  to  make  Kitty  a  rising  sun  quilt  for  her  bed- 
room.     'T  would  be  so  'propriate,  too." 

"  Fiddlesticks!  Not  a  yard  of  stuff  will  I  ever 
buy  for  you  to  set  an'  snip,  snip,  like  you  used  to  in 
the  woods.  We  've  got  something  else  to  do  now. 
As  for  Kit,  between  the  Fort  folks  and  the  Indians, 
she  's  had  so  many  things  give  her  a'ready,  she 
won't  have  room  to  put  'em.  The  idee!  Them  two 
children  gettin'  married.  Seems  just  like  play  make 
believe." 

"  Well,  there  ain't  no  make  believe.  It  's  the 
best  thing  't  ever  happened  to  Chicago.  Wonder- 
ful how  they  both  'pear  to  love  the  old  hole  in  the 
mud,"  answered  Mercy. 

"  Yes,  ain't  it  ?  To  hear  Caspar  talk,  you  'd 
think  he  'd  been  to  Congress,  let  alone  bein'  Presi- 
dent. All  about  the  '  possibilities  of  the  location,' 
the  '  fertility  of  the  soil,'  the  '  big  canawl,'  and  the 
whole  endurin'  business;  why,  I  tell  you,  it  badgers 
my  wits  to  foller  him." 

"  Would  n't  try,  then,  if  I  was  you.  Poor  old 
wits  'most  wore  out,  any  how,  and  better  save 
what  's  left  for  this  tavern  business.  Between  you 
and  your  fiddle,  thinkin'  you  've  got  to  amuse  your 
guests,  I  'm  about  beat  out.  All  the  drudgery 
comes  on  vie,  same  's  it  always  did." 

"  Drudgery,  Mercy  ?  Now,  come.  Take  it  easy. 
Hain't  Kitty  fetched  you  a  couple  of  squaws  to  do 


262  The  Sun  Maid. 

your  steps  and  dish  washin'  ?  All  you  have  to  do  is 
to  cook  and " 

"  Oh!  go  along,  Abel,  and  get  me  that  calico. 
Don't  set  there  till  you  take  root.  I  ain't  a-com- 
plainin',  an'  I  'low  I  'm  as  much  looked  up  to  here 
in  Chicago  without  my  bedstead  as  I  was  in  the 
woods  with  it." 

"  Looked  up  to  ?  I  should  say  so.  There  ain't 
a  woman  in  the  settlement  holds  her  head  as  top- 
lofty as  you  do.  And  with  good  reason,  I  'low.  I 
don't  praise  you  often,  ma,  but  when  I  do,  I  mean 
it.  If  you  had  n't  been  smarter  'n  the  average,  and 
had  more  gumption  to  boot,  you  'd  never  been 
asked  in  to  help  them  army  women  cook  Kitty's 
weddin'  supper.  By  the  way,  where  are  the 
youngsters  now  ?     I  hain't  seen  'em  to-day." 

"  Off  over  the  prairie  on  their  horses,  just  as  they 
used  to  be  when  they  were  little  tackers.  I  never 
saw  bridal  folks  like  them ;  from  the  very  first  not 
hangin'  round  by  themselves,  but  mixing  with 
everybody,  same  's  usual,  and  beginning  right  away 
to  do  all  the  good  they  can  with  Caspar's  money. 
Off  now  to  see  some  folks  burned  their  own  barn 
up " 

"  W-H-A-T  ? "  demanded  Abel,  with  paling 
face. 

"  What  ails  you  ?  A  fool  of  a  woman  took  a 
lighted  candle  into  her  hay  loft  and  ruined  herself. 


The  Crooked  Log.  263 

That  happened  the  night  Caspar  found  Kitty;  and 
they  call  it  part  of  their  weddin'  tower  to  go  there 
and  lend  the  farmer  the  money  to  replace  it.  Gas- 
par  was  for  giving  it  outright,  though  he  's  a  shrewd 
feller  too,  but  Kit  would  n't.  '  They  are  n't 
paupers,  and  it  would  hurt  their  pride,'  she  said. 
*  Lend  it  to  them  on  very  easy  terms,  and  they  '11 
respect  themselves  and  you.' 

"  Well,  of  course  he  done  it." 

"  Sure.  When  a  man  gets  a  wife  as  wise  as  Kitty 
he  'd  ought  to  hark  to  her." 

"  I  '11  go  and  get  the  calico  now,  Mercy,"  said 
Abel,  and  left  rather  suddenly. 

At  nightfall  the  young  couple  rode  homeward 
once  more,  facing  the  moonlight  that  whitened  the 
great  lake  and  touched  the  homely  hamlet  beside  it 
with  an  idealizing  beauty ;  and  looking  upon  it,  the 
Sun  Maid  recalled  her  vision  concerning  it  and 
repeated  it  to  her  husband. 

"  Ever  since  then,  my  Caspar,  the  dream  comes 
back  to  me  in  some  form  or  shape.  But  it  is 
always  here,  right  here,  that  the  crowds  gather  and 
the  great  roar  of  life  sounds  in  my  ears.  In  some 
strange  way  we  are  to  be  part  of  it;  part  of  it  all. 
In  the  dream  I  see  the  tall  spires  of  churches,  thick 
and  shouldering  one  another  like  the  trees  in  the 
forest  behind  us." 

"  But,  my  darling,  you  have  never  seen  a  church 


264  The  Sun  Maid. 

of  any  sort.  How,  then,  can  you  dream  of  them  ?  " 
"  That  I  don't  know,  unless  it  is  from  the  pictures 
in  the  good .  Doctor's  books.  I  have  learned  so 
much  from  the  pictures  always.  But,  oh !  I  wish  I 
could  make  you  know  some  of  the  dehght  I  felt 
when  first  I  could  read!  " 

"  I  do  know  it,  sweetheart.  I,  too,  craved  know- 
ledge and  dug  it  out  for  myself,  up  there  in  the 
northern  forests,  from  the  few  books  that  came  my 
way  and  the  rare  visit  of  a  man  who  could  teach. 
The  first  dollar  I  had  that  was  all  my  own  I  put 
aside  for  you.  That  was  the  beginning  of  our 
fortune.  The  second  I  invested  in  a  spelling-book. 
The  study,  dear,  was  all  that  helped  me  bear  the 
pain  of  your  death.  But  you  are  not  dead !  Rather 
the  most  alive  of  any  human  being  whom  I  ever 
saw. 

"  That  is  true,  Caspar.  I  am  alive.  I  just  quiver 
with  the  force  that  drives  me  on  from  one  task  to 
another,  from  one  point  reached  to  one  beyond. 
And  now,  with  you  beside  me,  there  is  no  limit,  it 
seems,  to  the  help  we  can  be  to  every  single  person 
who  will  come  within  our  reach.  Was  n't  the 
woman  glad  and  grateful ;  and  don't  you  see,  laddie, 
that  it  is  better  as  I  planned  ?  You  say  you  have 
been  penurious,  saving  every  cent  not  expended  for 
your  books  and  necessaries;  and  yet,  now  that  you 
are  happy  again,  you  are  ready  to  rush  to  the  other 


The  Crooked   Log.  265 

extreme  and  throw  your  money  away  in  thoughtless 
charity." 

She  looked  so  young,  so  chilcUike,  in  the  glimmer- 
ing moonlight  that  the  tall  woodsman  laughed. 

"  To  hear  my  little  Kit  teaching  her  elders!  " 

"  The  elders  must  listen.  It  is  for  our  home. 
You  must  spend  every  dollar  you  have,  but  you 
must  do  it  in  such  a  way  that  somebody  will  be 
helped.  We  don't  want  money,  just  money,  for 
itself.  To  hold  it  that  way  would  make  us  ignoble. 
It  's  the  wealth  we  spend  that  will  make  us  rich." 

Kit,  there  's  some  dark  scheme  afloat  in  that 
fair  head  of  yours.     Out  with  it!  " 

"  Just  for  a  beginning  of  things — this:  There  was 
a  family  came  to  the  Fort  to-day.  The  father  is  a 
skilled  wood-carver.  He  is  not  over  strong  and  his 
wife  is  frailer  than  he.  They  have  a  lot  of  little 
children  and  he  must  earn  money.  It  has  cost 
them  more  than  they  expected  to  get  as  far  as  this, 
even,  and  they  should  not  go  farther.  Yet  he  is  a 
man,  a  master  workman.  It  would  be  an  insult  to 
offer  him  money.  But  give  him  work  and  you 
feed  his  soul  as  well  as  his  body," 

How,  my  love  ?  Who  that  dwells  in  a  log 
cabin  needs  fine  carvings  or  would  appreciate  them 
if  they  had  them  ?  " 

Educate  them  to  want  and  appreciate  them. 
Open  a  scnool  for  just  that  branch.      I  myself  will 


266  The  Sun  Maid. 

be  his  pupil.  I  remember  with  what  delight  I  used 
to  mould  Mercy's  butter.  Well,  I  've  been  mould- 
ing something  ever  since." 

"  Your  husband,  for  instance." 

"  He  's  a  little  difficult  material;  but  time  will 
improve  him !  Then  there  are  the  Doctor's  botani- 
cal treatises  and  specimens.  Open  a  school.  If 
you  have  to  begin  with  a  few  only,  still  begin.  Lay 
the  seed.  From  our  little  workroom  and  classroom 
may  grow  one  of  those  mighty  colleges  that  have 
made  Englishmen  great  and  are  making  Americans 
their  equals." 

"  Hello  there,  child!  Hold  on  a  bit.  Their 
equals  ?     And  you  a  soldier's  daughter!  " 

"  Since  I  am  a  soldier's  daughter,  I  can  afford  to 
be  just,  and  even  generous.  It  is  all  nonsense,  be- 
cause we  have  gained  our  independence,  to  say  we 
are  better  than  our  fathers  were.  For  they  were 
our  fathers,  surely;  and  they  had  had  time  in  their 
rich  country,  with  their  ages  of  instruction,  to  grow 
learned  and  great.  But  we  Americans  are  their 
children,  and,  just  as  is  already  proving,  each  gen- 
eration is  wiser  than  the  one  which  went  before. 
So  presently  we  shall  be  able  to  do  even  better 
than  they " 

"  Give  them  another  dose  of  Yankee  Doodle  ?  " 

"  If  they  require  it,  yes.  But  come  back  to  just 
right  here  in  this  little  town.     Besides  the  schools 


The  Crooked   Log.  267 

for   white   children,    can't  we  have   those   for  the 
Indians  ?  " 

"  No,  dear;  not  here.  Not  anywhere,  I  fear, 
that  will  ever  result  in  permanent  good.  At  least, 
the  time  is  not  yet  ripe  for  that  part  of  your  dream- 
ing to  come  true," 

"  But  think  of  Wahneenah.  She  is  teachable  and 
there  is  none  more  noble.     Yet  she  is  an  Indian." 

She  is  one,  herself.  In  all  her  race  I  have  seen 
none  other  like  her.  There  is  Black  Partridge,  too, 
and  Gomo,  and  old  Winnemeg.  They  are  excep- 
tions. But,  my  love,  there  are,  also,  the  Black 
Hawk  and  the  Prophet." 

He  did  not  ddd  his  opinion,  which  agreed  with 
that  of  the  wisest  men  he  knew,  that  Illinois  would 
know  no  real  prosperity  till  the  savages,  which  dis- 
turbed its  peace,  were  removed  from  its  borders. 
For  she  loved  them,  hoped  for  them,  believed  in 
them;  even  though  her  own  common  sense  forced 
her  to  agree  with  him  that  the  time  was  not  ripe 
then,  if  it  ever  would  be,  for  their  civilization.  So 
he  held  his  peace  and  soon  they  were  at  home. 

"  Heigho!  There  are  lights  in  our  cabin.  Hear 
me  prophesy :  Mother  Mercy  has  come  over  with 
a  roast  for  our  supper  and  Mother  Wahneenah  has 
quietly  set  it  aside  to  wait  until  her  own  is  eaten. 
Ho  there  within!"  he  called  merrily.  "Who 
breaches  our  castle  when  its  lord  is  absent  ?  " 


268  The  Sun  Maid. 

Mercy  promptly  appeared  in  the  doorway.  She 
was  greatly  excited  and  hastily  led  them  to  the  rear 
of  the  house,  pointing  with  both  hands  to  an  animal 
fastened  behind  it. 

"  There  's  your  fine  Indian  for  you !    See  that  ?  " 

"Indeed  I  do!"  laughed  Kitty.  "An  ox, 
Jim,  is  n't  it  ?  with  the  Doctor's  saddle  on  his 
back  and  his  botanizing  box,  and —  What  does  it 
mean  ?  I  knew  he  was  absent-minded,  but  not  like 
this." 

"  Absent-minded.  Absent  shucks!  That  's  Os- 
ceolo — that\&\"  in  a  tone  of  fiercest  indignation. 
"  He  's  such  a  crooked  log  he  can't  lie  still." 

"  Is  that  his  work  ?  He  dared  not  play  his  tricks 
on  the  dear  Doctor!  " 

"  Yes,  it  's  his'n.  The  idee!  There  was  Abel 
went  and  gave  old  Dobbin  to  the  parson,  to  save  his 
long  legs  some  of  their  trampin*  after  weeds  and 
stuff  and  'cause  he  was  afraid  to  ride  ary  other 
horse  in  the  settlement.  And  there  was  Osceolo, 
that  for  a  feller  's  hired  out  to  a  regular  tavern- 
keeper  like  us,  to  be  a  hostler  and  such,  he  don't 
earn  his  salt.  All  the  time  prankin'  round  on  some 
tomfoolery.  And  Abel  's  just  as  bad.  A  man  with 
only  two  or  three  little  weeny  tufts  o'  hair  left  on  his 
head  and  mighty  little  sense  on  the  inside,  at  his 
time  of  life,  a-fiddlin'  and  cuttin'  up  jokes,  I  declare 
— I  declare,  I  'm  beat,  and  I  wish " 


The  Crooked  Log.  269 

"  But  what  is  it  ?  "  demanded  Kitty,  bringing  her 
old  friend  back  to  facts. 

"  Why,  nothing.  Only  when  the  dominie  came 
home  and  stopped  here,  as  he  always  does  after 
he  's  been  a-prairieing,  to  show  you  his  truck  and 
dicker,  Osceolo  happens  along  and  is  took  smart! 
The  simpleton!  Just  set  old  Dobbin  scamperin' 
off  back  into  the  grass  again  and  clapped  the  saddle 
and  tin  box  and  what  not  on  to  the  ox's  back. 
Spected  he  'd  see  the  parson  come  out  and  mount 
and  never  notice.  'Stead  of  that,  along  comes  Abel 
— strange  how  constant  he  has  to  visit  to  your 
house! — and  sees  the  whole  business.  Well,  he  'd 
caught  some  sort  of  a  wild  animal,  and — say,  Kitty 
Briscoe,  I  mean  Keith ! — that  Indian  'd  drink  whis- 
key, if  he  got  a  chance,  just  as  quick  as  one  raised  in 
the  woods,  instead  of  one  privileged  to  set  under 
such  a  saint  as  the  Doctor  all  his  days.  I  tell  you — 
Well,  what  you  laughing  at,  Gaspar  Keith  ?  Ain't 
I  tellin'  the  truth  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Mother  Mercy,  doubtless  you  are.  But  it 
is  n't  so  long  back,  as  Abel  says,  that  you  objected 
to  '  setting  under  '  the  Doctor  yourself." 

"  Suppose  it  was  n't  ?  I  did  n't  know  him  then, 
not  as  I  do  now.  He  's  orthodox,  I  found  out,  and 
that  's  all  I  wanted.  But  I  know  what  I  'm  talkin' 
about.  Osceolo,  he  's  always  beggin'  for  Abel  to 
keep  liquor:  an'  we  teetotallers!  An'  he  's  teased  so 


270  The  Sun  Maid. 

much  that  the  other  day  Abel  thought  he  'd  satisfy 
him.  So  he  got  an  old  bottle,  looked  as  if  some 
tipsy  Indian  had  thrown  it  away,  and  filled  it  with 
a  dose  of  boneset  tea.  He  made  a  terrible  mystery 
of  the  whole  matter,  pretendin'  to  be  sly  of  me,  and 
took  it  out  from  under  his  coat  and  gave  it  to  Ossy 
out  behind  in  the  stable,  like  it  was  a  wonderful 
secret.  Do  you  know,  that  Indian  hain't  never  let 
on  a  single  word  about  that  business  yet  ?  Oh! 
he  's  a  master  hand  for  bein'  close-mouthed.  They 
all  be.     They  just  do — but  don't  talk." 

"  Mercy,  \{  you  were  only  a  little  more  talkative, 
you  'd  be  better  company!"  teased  Caspar,  who 
was  eager  for  the  finish  of  the  story  and  his  supper. 

"  Now — you!  Well,  laugh  away.  I  don't  mind. 
All  is,  when  Abel  saw  the  trick  Ossy  had  played  on 
the  Doctor,  he  plays  one  on  Ossy.  He  'd  caught  a 
queer  sort  of  animal,  as  I  said,  and  he  was  fetchin' 
it  to  Kit.  Everybody  brings  her  everything,  from 
rattlesnakes  up.  But  when  he  saw  that  ox,  he  just 
opens  the  tin  box  and  claps  the  creature  inside  and 
then  hunts  up  Ossy.  He  says:  '  There  's  some- 
thing in  that  box  pretty  suspicious,  boy.  You 
might  look  an'  see  what  't  is  but  don't  let  on.' 
He  's  that  curiosity,  Osceolo  has,  that  he  forgot 
everything  else  and  stuck  his  hand  in  sly.  I  ex- 
pect he  thought  it  was  something  to  eat,  or  likely 
to  drink,  and  he  got  bit.     Hand  's  all  tore  and  sore, 


The  Crooked   L( 


271 


and  now  Abel  's  scared  and  gone  off  with  him  to 
the  surgeon  at  the  Fort,  and  there  '11  be  trouble. 
Ossy  was  muttering  something  about  the  '  Black 
Hawk  coming  and  that  he  'd  had  enough  of  the 
white  folks.  He  was  born  an  Indian,  and  an  Indian 
he  'd  die';  and  to  the  land!  I  hope  he  will!  He 
makes  more  mischief  in  this  settlement  than  you 
can  shake  a  stick  at!  " 

"  '  It  's  hard  for  a  bird  to  get  away  from  its 
tail,'  "  quoted  Caspar,  lightly.  "  Osceolo  began 
life  wrong  and  his  reputation  clings  to  him.  I  '11 
take  the  saddle  off  Jim,  and  let  's  go  in  to  supper. 
None  of  my  Sun  Maid's  tribe  is  to  be  feared,  I 
think,  no  matter  how  direly  they  may  threaten." 

Yet  the  young  husband  glanced  toward  his  wife 
with  an  anxiety  that  he  would  not  have  liked  her  to 
see.  During  the  weeks  since  his  return  to  the 
village  he  had  learned  much  more  than  he  had  told 
her  of  a  movement  far  beyond  the  Indian  encamp- 
ments she  was  accustomed  to  visit,  which  would 
bring  serious  trouble,  if  not  complete  disaster,  upon 
their  beloved  home.  Osceolo  was  the  Sun  Maid's 
devoted  follower;  yet  the  prank  he  had  played 
upon  the  old  Doctor,  whom  she  so  reverenced, 
showed  that  he  was  already  throwing  aside  the  re- 
straints of  his  enforced  civilization ;  and  the  sign 
was  ominous. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

ENEMIES,    SEEN   AND    UNSEEN. 

BUT  the  time  passed  on  and  the  rumors  died 
away,  or  ended  in  nothing  more  serious  than 
had  always  disturbed  the  dwellers  in  that  lonely 
land.  Now  and  again  a  friendly,  peace-loving 
chief  would  ride  up  to  the  door  of  the  Sun  Maid's 
home,  and,  after  a  brief  consultation  she  would 
put  on  her  Indian  attire  and  ride  back  with  him 
across  the  prairies.  As  of  old,  she  went  with  a 
heart  full  of  love  for  her  Indian  friends,  but  it  was 
not  the  undivided  love  that  she  had  once  been  able 
to  give  them. 

Over  her  beautiful  features  had  settled  the  brood- 
ing look  which  wifehood  and  motherhood  gives; 
and  though  she  listened  as  attentively  as  of  old  and 
counselled  as  wisely,  she  could  not  for  one  moment 
forget  the  little  children  waiting  for  her  by  her  own 
hearthside  or  the  brave  husband  who  was  so  often 
away  on  his  long  journeys  to  the  north;  and  the 
keen  intelligence  of  the  red  men  perceived  this. 

"  She  is  ours  no  longer,"  said  a  venerable  warrior, 
after  one  such  visit.  "  She  has  taken  to  herself  a 
272 


Enemies,   Seen  and   Unseen.  273 

pale-face,  he  who  met  her  on  the  prairie  in  the 
morning  light,  and  her  heart  has  gone  from  her. 
It  is  the  way  of  life.  The  old  passes,  the  new  comes 
to  reign.  We  are  her  past.  Her  Dark-Eye  is  her 
present.  Her  papooses  are  her  future.  The  part- 
ing draws  near.  She  is  still  the  Sun  Maid,  the 
White  Spirit,  the  Unafraid.  As  far  as  the  Great 
Spirit  wills,  she  will  be  faithful  to  us;  but  now  when 
she  rides  homeward  from  a  visit  to  our  lodge  it  is 
no  longer  at  the  easy  pace  of  one  whose  life  is  all 
her  own,  but  wildly,  swiftly,  following  her  heart 
which  has  leaped  before." 

Each  morning,  nearly,  as  the  Sun  Maid  ministered 
to  her  little  ones  or  busied  herself  among  the 
domestic  duties  of  her  simple  home  she  would  joy- 
fully exclaim  to  Wahneenah: 

"  I  don't  believe  there  was  ever  a  woman  in  the 
world  so  happy  as  I  am  !  "  And  the  Indian  foster- 
mother  would  gravely  reply : 

"  Ask  the  Great  Spirit  that  the  peace  may  long 
continue." 

Till,  on  one  especial  day,  the  younger  woman 
demanded : 

"  Well,  why  should  it  not,  my  Mother  ?  It  is 
now  many  weeks  since  I  have  been  called  to  settle 
any  little  quarrel  among  our  people.  Surely  they 
are  learning  wisdom  fast.  Do  you  know  something  ? 
I  intend  that  some  of  the  squaws  who  are  idle  shall 

i3 


274  The  Sun  Maid. 

make  my  baby,  Caspar  the  Second,  a  little  costume 
of  our  own  tribe.  It  shall  be  all  complete;  as  if  he 
were  a  tiny  chief  himself,  with  his  leggings  and 
head-dress,  and — yes,  even  a  little  bow  and  quiver. 
I  '11  have  it  finished,  maybe,  before  his  father  comes 
down  from  this  last  trip  into  the  far-away  woods. 
Oh !  I  shall  be  glad  when  my  '  brave  '  can  trust  all 
his  business  of  mining  and  fur-buying  and  lumber- 
ing to  somebody  else.  I  miss  him  so.  But  won't 
he  be  pleased  with  our  little  lad  in  feathers  and 
buckskin  ?  " 

Wahneenah's  dark  eyes  looked  keenly  at  her 
daughter's  face. 

"  No,  beloved;  he  will  not  be  pleased.  In  his 
heart  of  hearts,  the  white  chief  was  ever  the  red 
man's  enemy.  Me  he  loves  and  a  few  more.  But 
let  the  White  Papoose"  (Wahneenah  still  called  her 
foster-child  by  the  old  love  names  of  her  childhood) 
"let  the  White  Papoose  hear  and  remember:  the 
day  is  near  when  the  Dark-Eye  will  choose  between 
his  friends  and  the  friends  of  his  wife.  It  is  time 
to  prepare.  There  is  a  distress  coming  which  shall 
make  of  this  Chicago  a  burying-ground.  Our  Dark- 
Eye  has  bought  much  land.  He  is  always,  always 
buying.  Some  day  he  will  sell  and  the  gold  in  his 
purse  will  be  too  heavy  for  one  man's  carrying. 
But  first  the  darkness,  the  blood,  the  death.  Let 
him  choose  now  a  house  of  refuge  for  you  and  the 


Enemies,   Seen  and   Unseen.  275 

little  children ;  choose  it  where  there  are  trees  to 
shelter  and  water  to  refresh.  Let  him  build  there  a 
tepee  large  enough  for  all  your  needs, — a  wigwam, 
remember,  not  a  house.  Let  him  stock  it  well  with 
food  and  clothing  and  the  guns  which  protect." 

"  Why,  Other  Mother!  What  has  come  over 
you  ?  Such  a  dismal  prophecy  as  that  is  worse  than 
any  which  old  Katasha  ever  breathed.  Are  you  ill, 
W^ahneenah,  dearest  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  sickness  in  my  flesh;  yet  in  my 
heart  is  a  misery  that  bows  it  to  the  earth.  But  I 
warn  you.  If  you  would  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
your  brave,  clothe  not  his  son  in  the  costume  of  the 
red  man." 

Kitty  was  unaccountably  depressed.  Hitherto 
she  had  been  able  to  laugh  aside  the  sometimes 
sombre  auguries  of  the  chief's  sister;  but  now 
something  in  the  woman's  manner  made  her  believe 
that  she  knew  more  than  she  disclosed  of  some  im- 
pending disaster.  However,  it  was  not  in  her 
nature,  nor  did  she  believe  it  right,  that  she  should 
worry  over  vague  suggestions.  So  she  answered 
once  more  before  quite  dismissing  the  subject : 

"  Well,  we  were  already  discussing  the  comfort  of 
having  another  home  out  in  the  forest,  and  Abel 
has  suggested  that  we  build  it  on  the  land  which 
was  his  farm  and  which  Gaspar  has  bought.  We 
both    liked    that;   to  have  our  own    children  play 


2/6  The  Sun  Maid. 

where  we  played  as  children.  I  want  my  little  ones 
to  learn  about  the  wild  things  of  the  woods,  and  the 
dear  old  Doctor  is  still  alive  to  teach  them.  You 
will  like  it,  too.  Other  Mother.  When  the  days 
grow  hot  and  long  we  will  ride  to  the  '  Refuge  ' ; 
and  I  think  the  wigwam  idea  is  better,  after  all, 
than  the  house;  though  I  do  not  know  what  my 
husband  will  decide." 

"  Before  the  days  grow  long,  the  '  Refuge  '  must 
be  finished,  and  the  earlier  the  better.  It  is  rightly 
named,  my  daughter,  and  the  time  is  ripe." 

Ere  many  hours  had  passed,  and  most  unex- 
pectedly to  his  wife,  Caspar  returned.  In  the  first 
happiness  of  welcoming  him  she  did  not  observe 
that  his  face  was  stern  and  troubled ;  but  she  did 
notice,  when  bedtime  came,  that  he  did  what 
had  never  before  been  done  in  their  home:  he 
locked  or  bolted  the  doors  and  stoutly  barred 
the  heavy  wooden  shutters.  He  had  also  brought 
Osceolo  with  him,  from  Abel's  tavern,  and  had  per- 
emptorily bidden  the  Indian  to  "Lie  there!" 
pointing  to  a  heap  of  skins  on  the  floor  beside  the 
fire. 

Toward  morning  Kitty  woke.  To  her  utter 
amazement,  she  saw  in  her  living  room  her  Caspar 
and  Osceolo  engaged  in  what  seemed  a  battle  to  the 
death.  Then  she  sprang  up  and  ran  toward  them, 
but  her  husband  motioned  her  back. 


OSCEiJLO    AND    GASTAR, 


Pci^^e  276. 


Enemies,   Seen  and   Unseen.  277 

"  Leave  him  to  me.  I  '11  fix  him  so  that  he  '11 
do  no  more  mischief  for  the  present." 

"  But,  Caspar!     What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Treachery,  as  usual.  Get  into  your  clothes,  my 
girl,  and  call  Wahneenah.  Let  the  children  be 
dressed, — warmly,  for  the  air  is  cool  and  we  may 
have  to  leave  suddenly." 

"  W/iat  is  it  ?  " 

"An  outbreak!  The  settlers  are  flocking  into 
the  Fort  in  droves.  Black  Hawk  and  his  followers 
have  come  too  close  for  comfort.  This  miserable 
fellow  has  been  tampering  with  the  stores.  He 
could  n't  get  at  the  ammunition,  but  he  's  done  all 
the  evil  he  could.  I  caught  him  hobnobbing  with 
a  low  Sac;  a  spy,  I  think.  There.  He  's  bound, 
and  now  I  '11  fasten  him  in  the  wood-shed.  He 
knows  too  much  about  this  town  to  be  left  in  free- 
dom." 

Yet,  after  all,  they  did  not  have  to  flee  from 
home,  as  Caspar  had  feared,  though  the  Sun  Maid 
put  on  her  peace  dress  and  unbound  her  glorious 
hair,  ready  at  any  moment  to  ride  forth  and  meet 
the  Indians  and  to  try  her  powers  of  promoting 
good-feeling.  The  Snowbird  stood  saddled  for 
many  days :  yet  it  was  only  upon  errands  of  hos- 
pitality and  charity  that  he  was  needed. 

Caspar,  however,  was  always  in  the  saddle.  When 
he  was  not  riding  far  afield,  scouting  the  movements 


2  78  The  Sun  Maid. 

of  the  Black  Hawk  forces,  he  was  searching  the 
country-side  for  provisions  and  himself  guiding  the 
wagons  that  brought  in  the  scant  supplies.  One 
evening  he  returned  more  cheerful  than  he  had 
seemed  for  many  days  and  exclaimed  as  he  tossed 
aside  his  cap: 

"  This  has  been  a  good  trip,  for  two  reasons." 

"  What  are  they,  dear  ? 

"  Starvation  is  staved  off  for  a  while  and  the 
Indians  are  evidently  in  grave  doubts  of  their  own 
success  in  this  horrid  war." 

"  Starvation,  Caspar  ?  Has  it  been  as  bad  as 
that  ?" 

"  Pretty  close  to  it.  But  I  've  found  a  couple  of 
men  who  had  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  head  of 
cattle,  and  they  Ve  driven  them  here  into  the 
stockade.  As  long  as  they  last,  we  shall  manage. 
The  other  good  thing  is  -that  the  Black  Hawks  are 
sacrificing  to  the  Evil  Spirit." 

"  They  are!  That  shows  they  are  hopeless  of 
their  own  success." 

"  Certainly  very  doubtful  of  it.  It  is  the  dog  im- 
molation. I  saw  one  instance  myself  and  met  a 
man  who  had  come  from  the  southwest.  He  has 
passed  them  at  intervals  of  a  day's  journey;  always 
the  same  sort.  The  wretched  little  dog,  fastened 
just  above  the  ground,  the  nose  pointing  straight 
this  way  and  the  fire  beneath." 


Enemies,   Seen  and   Unseen.  279 

"  Oh,  Caspar,  it  's  dreadful!  " 

"  That  they  are  discouraged  ?  Kit,  you  don't 
mean  that  ?  " 

"  No.  No,  no!  You  know  better.  But  that 
they  are  such — such  heathen!  " 

Another  voice  broke  in  upon  them : 

"  Heathen!  Heathen,  you  say  ?  Well,  if  ever 
you  was  right  in  your  life,  you  're  right  now.  I 
never  saw  such  folks.  Here  I  've  been  cooking  and 
cooking  till  I  'm  done  clean  through  myself;  and  in 
there  's  come  another  lot,  just  as  hungry  as  t'  others. 
Dear  me,  dear  me !  Why  in  the  name  of  common 
sense  could  n't  I  have  stayed  back  there  in  the 
woods,  and  not  come  trapesing  to  Chicago  to  turn 
head  slave  for  a  lot  of  folks  that  act  as  if  I  'd  ought 
to  be  grateful  for  the  chance  to  kill  myself  a-waitin' 
on  them.  And  say,  Caspar  Keith,  have  you  heard 
the  news  ?     When  did  you  get  home  ? " 

It  was  Mercy,  of  course,  who  had  rushed  excitedly 
into  the  house,  yet  had  been  able  to  rattle  off  a 
string  of  sentences  that  fairly  took  her  hearers' 
breath  away,  if  not  her  own. 

But  Kitty  was  at  her  side  at  once,  tenderly  re- 
moving the  great  sun-bonnet  from  the  hot  gray 
head  and  offering  a  fan  of  turkey  wings,  gayly 
decorated  with  Indian  embroideries  of  beads  and 
weavings. 

"  No,  Kit.     No,  you  need  n't.     Not  while  I  know 


28o  The  Sun  Maid. 

myself;  there  ain't  never  no  more  red  man's  tom- 
foolery going  to  be  around  me!  Take  that  there 
Indian  contraption  away.  I  'd  rather  have  a  de- 
cent, honest  cabbage-leaf  any  day.  I  'm  beat  out. 
My,  ain't  it  hot!  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  it  is  awfully  hot.  Sit  here  in  the 
doorway,  in  this  big  chair,  and  get  what  little  breeze 
there  is.  Here  's  another  fan,  which  I  made  my- 
self; plain,  good  Yankee  manufacture.  Try  that. 
Then,  when  you  get  cooled  off,  tell  us  your '  news.'  " 

"  Cooled  off  ?  That  I  sha'  n't  never  be  no  more; 
not  while  I  've  got  to  cook  for  all  creation." 

"  Mother  Mercy,  Mother  Mercy!  You  are  a 
puzzler.  You  won't  let  the  people  go  anywhere 
else  than  to  your  house  as  long  as  there  's  room  to 
squeeze  another  body  in  ;  and " 

"  Ain't  it  the  tavern  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  But  people  who  keep  taverns  usually 
take  pay  for  entertaining  their  guests." 

"  Caspar  Keith!  You  say  that  to  me,  after  the 
raisin'  I  gave  you  ?  The  idee!  When  not  a  blessed 
soul  of  the  lot  has  got  a  cent  to  bless  himself  with." 
But  I  have  cents,  plenty  of  them;  and  I  want 
you  to  let  me  bear  this  expense  for  you.  I  insist 
upon  it." 

Well,  lad,  I  always  did  think  you  was  a  little 
too  sharp  after  the  money.  But  I  did  n't  'low 
you  'd  begrudge  folks  their  blessings,  too." 


Enemies,   Seen  and   Unseen.  281 

"  Blessings  ?  Are  n't  you  complaining  about  so 
much  hard  work,  and  have  n't  you  the  right  ?  I 
know  that  no  private  family  has  cared  for  so  many 
as  you  have,  and " 

Oh,  do  drop  that!  I  tell  you  /  ain't  a  private 
family;  I  'm  a  tavern.  Oh!  I  don't  know  what  I 
am  nor  what  I  'm  sayin'.  I — I  reckon  I  'm  clean 
beat  and  tuckered  out." 

So  you  are,  dear.  But  rest  and  I  '11  make  you 
a  cup  of  tea.  If  you  leave  those  people  to  them- 
selves and  they  get  hungry  again  they  '11  cook  for 
themselves.  They  '11  have  to.  But  to  a  good 
many  of  these  refugees  this  is  a  sort  of  picnic  busi- 
ness. They  have  left  their  homes,  it  's  true;  but 
they  have  n't  seen  so  many  human  faces  in  years 
and " 

They  have  n't  had  such  a  good  time!  I  noticed 
that.  They  seemed  as  bright  as  children  at  a  frolic. 
Well,  we  ought  to  help  them  get  what  fun  they  can 
out  of  so  serious  a  matter,"  commented  Caspar. 

Serious!  I  should  say  so.  That  's  what  sent 
me  here.  Abel,  he  was  on  the  wharf,  and  he  says 
the  ships  are  coming  down  the  lake  full  of  soldiers; 
and  what  with  them  and  the  folks  already  here  and 
only  a  hundred  and  fifty  head  to  feed  'em  with,  and 
some  of  these  refugees  eat  as  much  as  ary  parson  I 
ever  saw,  and  the  old  Doctor  trying  to  preach  to 
'em,  sayin'  it   's  the  best  opportunity- — my  land! 


282  The  Sun  Maid. 

The  way  some  folks  can  get  sweet  out  of  bitter  is  a 
disgrace,  I  declare.  And  as  for  that  Ossy,  the  dirty 
scamp,  he  's  broke  more  dishes,  washing  them,  than 
I  've  got  left.  And  I  run  over  to  see  if  you  'd  let 
me  have  ary  dish  you  've  got,  or  shall  I  give  'em 
their  stuff  right  in  their  hands  ?  And  how  long 
have  I  got  to  go  on  watchin'  that  wild  Osceolo  ?  I 
wish  you  'd  take  him  back  and  shut  him  up  in  your 
wood-shed  again." 

"  But,  Mother  Mercy,  it  was  you  who  begged  his 
release.  And  I  'm  sure  it  's  better  for  him  in  your 
kitchen,  working,  than  lying  idle  in  an  empty  build- 
ing, plotting  mischief.  Hello,  here  *s  Abel.  And 
he  seems  as  excited  as — as  you  were,"  said  Caspar. 

' '  Glory  to  government,  youngsters !  The  military 
is  coming!  The  General  's  in  sight!  Now  hooray! 
We  '11  show  them  pesky  red-skins  a  thing  or  two. 
If  they  ain't  wiped  clean  out  of  existence  this  time 
my  name  's  Jack  Robinson.  Say,  Kit,  don't  look 
so  solemn.  Likely  they  '11  know  enough  to  give 
up  licked  without  getting  shot ;  and  they  're  nothin' 
but  Indians,  any  how." 

The  Sun  Maid  came  softly  across  and  held  up  her 
little  son  to  be  admired.  Her  face  was  grave  and 
her  lips  silent.  All  this  talk  of  war  and  bloodshed 
was  awful  to  her  gentle  heart,  that  was  torn  and 
distracted  with  grief  for  both  her  white  and  her 
red-faced  friends. 


Enemies,   Seen  and   Unseen.  283 

But  there  was  only  grim  satisfaction  on  the 
countenance  of  her  young  husband;  and  he  turned 
to  Abel,  demanding: 

"  Are  you  sure  that  this  good  news  is  true  ?  Are 
the  soldiers  coming  ?     Who  saw  them  ? " 

"  I  myself,  through  the  commandant's  spy- 
glass. They  're  aboard  the  ships,  and  I  could 
almost  hear  the  tune  of  Yankee  Doodle.  They  're 
bound  to  rout  the  enemy  like  chain  lightning. 
Hooray !  " 

The  soldiers  were  coming  indeed ;  but  alas !  an 
enemy  was  coming  with  them  far  more  deadly  than 
the  Indians  they  meant  to  conquer. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

FAITHFUL   UNTO   DEATH. 

"  /^^H,   Kit;  I  can't   bear  to  leave  you  behind! 

V-/  It  breaks  my  old  heart  all  to  flinders!" 
lamented  Abel,  laboriously  climbing  into  the  great 
wagon  which  Jim  and  Pete  were  now  to  draw  back 
to  their  old  home  and  wherein  were  already  seated 
Mercy,  with  Kitty's  children.  "  If  it  was  n't  for 
these  babies  of  yourn,  I  'd  never  stir  stick  nor 
stump  out  this  afflicted  town." 

"  Well,  dear  Abel,  the  babies  are,  and  must  be 
cared  for.  I  know  that  you  and  Mother  Mercy  will 
spoil  them  with  kindness;  but  I  hope  we  '11  soon  be 
all  together  again.     Good-by,  good-by." 

The  Sun  Maid's  voice  did  not  tremble  nor  the 
light  in  her  brave  face  grow  dim,  though  her  heart 
was  nearer  breaking  than  Abel's ;  in  that  she  realized 
far  more  keenly  than  he  the  peril  in  which  she  was 
voluntarily  placing  herself. 

"  Well,  Kitty,  lamb,  do  take  care.  Take  the  herb 
tea  constant  and  keep  your  feet  dry." 

**  That  will  be  easy  to  do,  if  this  heat  remains," 
answered  the  other  quietly,  looking  about  her  as  she 
284 


Faithful  unto   Death.  285 

spoke  upon  the  sun-parched  ground  and  the  hot, 
brazen  sky.  "  And  you  must  not  worry,  any  of 
you.  Caspar  says  the  tepees  are  as  comfortable  as 
the  best  log  cabins,  though  so  hastily  put  up.  You 
will  have  plenty  of  air  and  the  delicious  shade  of  the 
trees;  the  blessed  spring  water,  too;  and  if  you 
don't  keep  well  and  be  as  happy  as  kittens,  I — I  '11 
be  ashamed  of  you.  I  declare,  Mercy  dear,  your 
face  is  all  a-beam  with  the  thought  of  the  old  clear- 
ing, and  the  bleaching  ground,  and  all.  So  you 
need  n't  try  to  look  grave,  for,  as  soon  as  we  can, 
Wahneenah  and  I  will  follow." 

Then  she  turned  to  speak  to  Caspar,  who  sat  on 
Tempest  close  at  hand,  his  handsome  face  pale  with 
anxiety  and  divided  interests,  but  stern  and  resolute 
to  do  his  duty  as  his  young  wife  had  shown  it  to 
him.  And  what  these  two  had  to  say  to  one 
another  is  not  for  others  to  hear;  for  it  was  a  part- 
ing unto  death,  it  might  be,  and  the  hearts  of  the 
twain  were  as  one  flesh. 

Also,  if  Mercy's  face  was  alight  with  the  glow  of 
her  home  returning,  it  was  moved  by  the  sight  of 
the  two  women — Wahneenah  and  her  daughter — 
who  were  taking  their  lives  in  their  hands  for  the 
service  of  their  fellow-men. 

Never  had  the  Indian  woman's  comeliness  shown 
to  such  advantage ;  and  her  bearing  was  of  one  who 
neither   belittled  nor  overrated  the  dignity  of  the 


286  The  Sun  Maid. 

self-sacrifice  she  was  making.  She  wore  a  white 
cotton  gown,  which  draped  rather  than  fitted  her 
tall  figure,  and  about  her  dark  head  was  bound  a 
white  kerchief  that  seemed  a  crown.  With  an  im- 
pulse foreign  to  her,  Mercy  held  out  her  hand ; 
because  in  ordinary  she"  hated  an  Indian  on  sight." 
Well,  Wahneeny,  I  'd  like  to  shake  hands  for 
good-by.  There  hain't  never  been  no  love  lost 
'twixt  you  an'  me,  but  I  'low  I  might  have  been 
more  juster  than  I  was.  I  think  you  're — you  're 
as  good  as  ary  white  women  I  ever  see,  savin'  our 
Kit,  of  course;  an' — an' — I — I  wish  you  well." 

There  was  a  moment's  hesitation  on  Wahneenah's 
part;  then  her  slim  brown  hand  was  extended  and 
closed  upon  Mercy's  fat  palm  with  a  friendly  pres- 
sure. 

"  In  the  light  of  the  Unknown  Beyond,  the  little 
hates  and  loves  of  earth  must  disappear.  You  have 
judged  according  to  the  wisdom  that  was  in  you, 
and  if  I  bore  you  a  grudge,  it  is  forgotten.  Fare- 
well." 

Then  the  foster-mother  slipped  her  arm  about  the 
waist  of  her  beloved  Sun  Maid  and  supported  her 
firmly  as  the  oxen  moved  slowly  forward,  the  heavy 
wheels  creaking  and  the  three  children  shouting 
and  clapping  their  hands  in  innocent  glee,  quite 
unconscious  of  the  tragedy  of  the  parting  they  had 
witnessed. 


Faithful  unto  Death.  287 

Abel  gee-ed  and  haw-ed  indiscriminately  and 
confusingly,  then  belabored  his  patient  beasts  be- 
cause they  did  not  understand  conflicting  orders. 
Mercy  sat  twisted  around  upon  the  buffalo-covered 
seat,  her  arms  holding  each  a  child  as  in  a  vise  and 
her  neck  in  danger  of  dislocation,  as  long  as  her 
swimming  eyes  could  catch  one  glimpse  of  the  two 
white-robed  women  left  on  the  dusty  road. 

"  They  look  as  pure  as  some  them  Sisters  of 
Charity  I  've  seen  in  Boston  city.  And  they  won't 
spare  themselves  no  more,  neither.  Poor  Caspar 
boy!  How  '11  he  ever  stand  it  without  his  Kit,  and 
if — ah,  if — she  should  catch —  Oh,  my  soul !  oh — 
my  —  soul!  I  wonder  if  he  's  takin'  it  terrible 
hard!  " 

But  though  she  brought  her  body  back  to  a  nor- 
mal poise,  her  morbid  curiosity  was  doomed  to  dis- 
appointment, for  Tempest  had  already  borne  his 
master  out  of  sight  at  a  mad  pace  across  the 
prairie. 

The  enemy  which  had  come  with  the  infantry 
over  the  great  water  was  the  most  terrible  known, — 
a  disease  so  dread  and  devastating  that  men  turned 
pale  at  the  mere  mention  of  its  name  —  the  Asiatic 
cholera. 

When  it  appeared,  the  garrison  was  crowded  with 
the  settlers  who  had  fled  before  the  anticipated  at- 
tacks of  the  Indians  and,  as  has  been  said,  every 


288  The  Sun  Maid. 

roof  in  the  community  sheltered  all  it  could  cover. 
But  when  the  soldiers  began  to  die  by  dozens  and 
scores  the  refugees  were  terrified.  Death  by  the 
hand  of  the  red  man  was  possible,  even  probable ; 
but  death  of  the  pestilence  was  certain. 

The  town  was  now  emptied  far  more  rapidly  than 
it  had  filled ;  and  early  in  this  new  disaster  Caspar 
had  hastened  to  the  old  clearing  of  the  Smiths  and 
had  made  Osceolo,  aided  by  a  few  more  frightened, 
willing  men,  toil  with  himself  to  erect  wigwams 
enough  to  accommodate  many  persons.  He  had 
then  returned  for  his  household  and  had  been  met 
by  his  wife's  first  resistance  to  his  will. 

"  No,  Caspar,  I  cannot  go.  I  have  no  fear.  I 
am  perfectly  '  sound. '  Probably  no  healthier  woman 
ever  lived  than  I  am.  I  have  learned  much  of  nurs- 
ing from  Wahneenah,  and  my  place,  my  duty,  is 
here.     I  cannot  go." 

"Kit!  my  Kitty!  Are  you  beside  yourself? 
Where  is  your  duty,  if  not  to  me  and  to  our 
children  ?  " 

"  Here,  my  husband,  right  here;  in  our  beloved 
town,  among  the  lonely  strangers  who  have  come 
to  save  it  from  destruction  and  have  laid  their  lives 
at  our  feet." 

"  That  is  sheer  nonsense.     Your  life  is  at  stake. " 

"  Is  my  life  more  precious  than  theirs  ? ' 

"  Yes.     Infinitely  so.     It  is  mine." 


Faithful  unto   Death.  289 

It  is  God's — and  humanity's — first,  Caspar." 
"  Your  children,  then;  if  you  scorn  my  wishes." 
Don't  make  it  hard  for  me,  beloved;  harder 
than  God  Himself  has  made  it.  Do  you  take 
Mother  Mercy  and  Abel  and  go  to  the  place  you 
have  prepared.  The  children  will  be  as  safe  with 
her  as  with  me ;  safer,  for  she  will  watch  them  con- 
stantly, while  I  believe  in  leaving  them  to  grow  by 
themselves.  Between  them  and  us  you  may  come 
and  go  —  up  to  a  certain  point;  but  not  to  the 
peril  of  your  taking  the  disease.  The  Indians  are 
no  less  on  the  war-path  because  the  cholera  has 
come.  Vo7/r  duty  is  afield,  guarding,  watching, 
preventing  all  the  evil  that  a  wise  man  can.  Mine 
is  here,  using  the  skill  I  have  learned  from  Wah- 
neenah  and  faithfully  at  her  side." 

"  Wahneenah  ?  Does  she  wish  to  stay  too  ; 
to  nurse  the  pale-faces,  the  men  who  have  come 
here  to  fight  her  own  race  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Caspar,  she  is  just  so  noble.  Can  I  do 
less  ?  I,  with  my  education,  which  the  dear  Doctor 
has  given  me,  and  my  youth,  my  perfect  health, 
my  entire  fearlessness.  You  forget,  sweetheart ; 
I  am  the  Unafraid.  Never  more  unafraid  than 
now,  never  more  sure  that  we  will  come  out  of 
this  trouble  as  we  have  come  out  of  every  other. 
Why,  dear,  don't  you  remember  old  Katasha  and 
her    prophec)'  ?      I  am  to   be   great    and  rich  and 


290  The  Sun  Maid. 

beneficent.  I  am  to  be  the  helper  of  many  people. 
Well,  then,  since  I  am  not  great,  and  rich  only 
through  you,  let  me  begin  at  the  last  end  of  the 
prophecy,  and  be  beneficent.  Wait;  even  now 
there  is  somebody  coming  toward  us  asking  me  for 
help." 

"  Kit,  I  can't  have  it.  I  won't.  You  are  my 
wife.  You  shall  obey  me.  You  shall  stop  talking 
nonsense.  You  may  as  well  understand.  Pick  to- 
gether what  duds  you  need  and  let  's  get  off  as 
soon  as  possible.  Every  hour  here  is  fresh  danger. 
Come.     Please  hurry." 

But  she  did  not  hurry,  not  in  the  least.  Indeed, 
had  she  followed  her  heart  wholly,  she  would  never 
have  hastened  one  degree  toward  the  end  she  had 
elected.  But  she  followed  it  only  in  part;  so  she 
stole  quietly  up  to  where  the  man  fumed  and  flus- 
tered and  clasped  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  laid 
her  beautiful  face  against  his  own. 

"  Love:  this  is  not  our  first  separation,  nor  our 
longest.  Many  a  month  have  you  been  away  from 
me,  up  there  in  the  north,  getting  money  and  more 
money,  till  I  hated  its  very  name, —  only  that  I 
knew  we  could  use  it  for  others.  In  that,  and  in 
most  things,  I  will  obey  you  as  I  have.  In  this  I 
must  obey  the  voice  of  God.  Life  is  better  than 
money,  and  to  save  life  or  to  comfort  death  is  the 
price  of  this,  our  last  separation." 


Faithful  unto   Death.  291 

After  that  he  said  no  more;  but  recognizing  the 
nobility  of  her  effort,  even  though  he  still  felt  it 
mistaken,  and  with  a  credulous  remembrance  of 
Katasha's  saying,  he  made  her  preparations  and  his 
own  without  delay  and  parted  from  her  as  has  been 
told. 

"  Well,  my  dear  Other  Mother,  there  is  one  thing 
to  comfort!  Hard  as  it  was  to  see  them  all  go,  we 
shall  have  no  time  to  brood.  And  we  shall  be  to- 
gether. Let  us  get  on  now  to  our  work.  There 
were  five  new  cases  this  morning;  and  time  flies! 
Oh,  if  I  were  wiser  and  knew  better  what  to  do  for 
such  a  sickness!     The  best  we  can — that  's  all." 

"  What  the  Great  Spirit  puts  into  our  hands,  that 
we  can  always  lift,"  replied  Wahneenah,  and,  with 
her  arm  still  about  her  darling's  waist,  they  walked 
together  Fortward.  It  may  be  that  in  the  Indian's 
jealous,  if  devoted,  heart  there  was  just  a  tinge  of 
thankfulness  for  even  an  evil  so  dire,  since  it  gave 
her  back  her  "  White  Papoose  "  quite  to  herself 
again. 

"  Well,  I  can  watch  her  all  I  choose,  and  no 
burden  shall  fall  to  her  share  that  I  can  spare  her. 
The  easy  part — the  watching  and  the  soothing  and 
the  Bible  reading — that  shall  be  hers.  Mine  will  be 
the  coarsest  tasks,"  she  thought,  and — as  Caspar 
had  done — reckoned  without  her  host. 

"  It  is  turn  and  turn  about,  Other  Mother,  or  I 


292  The  Sun  Maid. 

will  drive  you  out  of  the  place,"  Kitty  declared; 
and  after  a  few  useless  struggles,  which  merely 
wasted  the  time  that  should  have  been  given  their 
patients,  it  was  so  settled;  and  so  continued  during 
the  dreadful  weeks  that  followed. 

Until  just  before  midsummer  the  nurses  were 
almost  wholly  at  the  Fort,  where  it  seemed  to  Kitty 
that  a  "  fresh  case  "  and  a  "  burial  "  alternated  with 
the  regularity  of  a  pendulum  ;  and  then  a  little  re- 
lief was  gained  by  taking  their  sick  across  to  Agency 
House  and  its  ampler  accommodations.  But  even 
these  were  meagre  compared  to  the  needs;  and 
more  and  more  as  the  days  went  by  did  the  Sun 
Maid  long  for  greater  wisdom. 

"  That  is  one  of  the  things  Caspar  and  I  must 
do.  We  must  have  a  regular  hospital,  such  as  are 
in  Eastern  cities;  and  there  must  be  men  and 
women  taught  to  understand  all  sorts  of  diseases 
and  how  to  care  for  them.  I  know  so  little  —  so 
little." 

But  experience  taught  more  than  schools  could 
have  done ;  and  many  a  poor  fellow  who  had  come 
from  a  far-away  home  sank  to  his  last  rest  with 
greater  confidence  because  of  the  ministrations  of 
these  two  devoted  women.  And  at  last,  very  sud- 
denly, there  appeared  one  among  them  whom  both 
Wahneenah  and  her  daughter  recognized  with  a 
sinking  heart. 


Faithful  unto   Death.  293 

"  Doctor!  Oh,  Doctor  Littlejohn !  I  thought 
you  were  safe  at  the  '  Refuge  '  with  Mercy  and 
Abel.  How  came  you  here  ?  and  why  ?  You  must 
go  away  at  once.  You  must,  indeed.  Where  is 
the  horse  you  rode  ?  " 

I  rode  no  horse,  my  dear.  If  I  had  asked  for 
one,  I  should  have  been  prevented, —  even  forcibly, 
I  fear.     So  I  walked." 

"  Walked  ?  In  this  heat,  all  that  distance  ? 
Will  you  tell  me  why  ?  " 

But  already,  before  it  was  spoken,  the  Sun  Maid 
guessed  the  answer. 

"  Because,  at  length,  through  all  the  shifting  talk 
about  me,  it  penetrated  to  my  study-dulled  brain 
that  there  was  a  need  more  urgent  than  that  the 
Indian  dialects  should  be  preserved ;  that  I,  a 
minister  of  the  gospel,  was  letting  a  woman  take  the 
duty,  the  privilege,  that  was  mine.  I  have  come, 
daughter  of  my  old  age,  to  encourage  the  sufferers 
you  relieve  and  bury  the  dead  you  cannot  save." 

"  But — ior  you,  in  your  feebleness " 

He  held  up  his  thin  white  hand  that  trembled  as 
an  aspen  leaf. 

"  It  is  enough,  my  dear.  Consider  all  is  said.  I 
heard  a  fresh  groan  just  then.  Somebody  needs 
you — or  me." 

Wahneenah  now  had  two  to  watch,  and  she  did  it 
jealously,    at  the  cost  of  the    slight    rest    she  had 


294  The  Sun  Maid. 

heretofore  allowed  herself.  The  result  of  overstrain, 
in  the  midst  of  such  infection,  was  inevitable.  One 
evening  she  crept  languidly  toward  the  empty  house 
which  had  been  her  darling's  home  and  behind 
which  still  stood  her  own  deserted  lodge.  She  was 
a  little  wearier  than  usual,  she  thought,  but  that 
was  all.  To  lie  down  on  her  bed  of  boughs  and 
draw  her  own  old  blanket  over  her  would  make  her 
sleep.  She  longed  to  sleep — just  for  a  minute ;  to 
shut  out  from  her  eyes  and  her  thoughts  the  scenes 
through  which  she  had  gone.  How  long  ago  was 
it  since  the  wagon  and  the  fair-haired  babies  went 
away  ? 

She  was  a  little  confused.  She  was  falling  asleep, 
though,  despite  the  agony  that  tortured  her.  Her  ? 
She  had  always  hated  pain  and  despised  it.  It 
couldn't  be  Wahneenah,  the  Happy,  crouching 
thus,  in  a  cramped  and  becrippled  attitude.  It  was 
some  other  woman, — some  woman  she  had  used  to 
know. 

Why,  there  was  her  warrior :  her  own !  And  the 
son  she  had  lost !  And  now  —  what  was  this  in  the 
parting  of  the  tent  curtains  ?  The  moonlight  made 
mortal  ? 

No.  Not  a  moon-born  but  a  sun-born  maiden 
she,  who  stooped  till  her  white  garments  swept  the 
earth  and  her  beautiful,  loving  face  was  close,  close. 
Even  the  glazing  eyes  could  see  how  wondrously 


Faithful  unto   Death.  295 

fair  it  was  in  the  sight  of  men  and  spirits.     Even 
the  dulled  ears  could  catch  that  agonized  cry: 

"Wahneenah!  Wahneenah  !  My  Mother !  Brav- 
est and  noblest!  and  yet — a  savage!  " 

Who  called  her  so  knew  not  of  what  he  spake. 
From  one  God  we  all  came  and  unto  Him  we  must 
return.  Blessed  be  His  Name!"  answered  the 
clergyman  who  had  followed. 

Then  the  frail  man,  who  had  so  little  strength  for 
himself,  was  given  power  to  lift  the  broken-hearted 
Maid  and  carry  her  away  into  a  place  of  safety. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

GROWING   UP. 

"  "I  XT' ELL,  I 'm  beat!  I  don't  know  what  to  do 
V  V  with  myself.  Out  there  to  the  clearing 
I  was  just  crazy  wild  to  get  back  to  town;  and  now 
I  'm  here  I  'm  nigh  dead  with  plumb  lonesomeness. 
My,  my,  my!  Indians  licked  out  of  their  skins, 
about,  and  cleared  out  the  whole  endurin'  State. 
Old  Black  Hawk  marched  off  to  the  East  to  be 
shown  what  kind  of  a  nation  he  'd  bucked  up 
against,  the  simpleton!  And  Osceolo  takin'  him- 
self and  his  pranks,  with  his  tribe,  clear  beyond  the 
Mississippi;  an'  me  an'  ma  lived  through  watchin' 
them  little  tackers  of  Kit's — oh,  hum!  I  'd  ought 
to  take  some  rest;  but  somehow  I  'low  I  can't  seem 
to." 

Mercy  looked  up  from  the  unbleached  sheet  she 
was  hemming  and  smiled  grimly. 

"  Give  it  up,  pa.  Give  it  up.  I  've  been  a- 
studyin'  this  question,  top  and  bottom  crust  and 
through  the  inside  stuffin',  and  I  sum  it  this  way: 
//  's  in  the  soil !  " 

"  What  's  in  the  soil  ?  The  shakes  ?  or  the 
296 


Growing  Up.  297 

homesickness    when  a  feller  's  right  to  home  ?    or 
what  in  the  land  do  you  mean  ?  " 

The  restlessness.  The  something  that  gets 
inside  your  mind  and  keeps  you  movin'.  I  've 
noticed  it  in  everybody  ever  come  here.  Must  be 
doin' ;  can't  keep  still;  up  an'  at  it,  till  a  body  's 
clean  wore  an'  beat  out.  Me,  for  one.  Here  I  've 
no  more  need  to  hem  sheets  than  I  have  to  make 
myself  a  pink  satin  gown,  which  I  never  had  nor 
hope  to  have  even " 

"  The  idee!  I  should  hope  not,  indeed.  You  in 
a  pink  satin  gown,  ma;  't  would  be  scandalous!  " 

Did  n't  I  say  I  was  n't  thinkin'  of  gettin'  one, 
even  so  be  I  could,  in  this  hole  in  the  mud  ?  I  was 
talkin'  about  Chicago.  It  ain't  a  town  to  brag  of, 
seein'  there  ain't  two  hundred  left  in  it  after  the 
ravagin'  of  the  cholera;  an'  yet  I  don't  know  ary 
creature,  man,  woman,  or  child,  ain't  goin'  to  plan- 
ning right  away  for  something  to  be  done.  I  've 
heard  more  talk  of  improvements  and  hospitals  and 
schools  an'  colleges  and  land  knows  what  more 
truck  an'  dicker —  Pshaw!  It  takes  my  breath 
away." 

"  It  does  mine,  ma." 

"  Well, — tJiat  's  Chicago!  You  can  always  tell 
by  a  child  when  it  's  a  baby  what  it  's  goin'  to  be 
when  it  's  a  man.  Chicago  's  a  baby  now,  an'  a 
mighty  puny  one,  too;  but  it  's  kickin'  like  a  good 


298  The  Sun  Maid. 

feller,  an*  it  's  gettin'  strong;  an',  first  you  know, 
folks  will  be  pourin'  in  here  faster  'n  the  Indians  or 
cholera  carried  'em  off,  ary  one." 

"  Them  ain't  your  own  idees;  they  're  Caspar's 
and  Kit's.  He  's  gone  right  to  work,  an'  so  has 
she;  layin'  out  buildin'  sites  an'  sendin'  East  for 
any  poor  man  that  's  had  hard  luck  and  wants  to 
begin  all  over  again.  Say — do  you  know — I— be- 
lieve— that  our  Gaspar  writes  for  the  newspapers. 
Our  Gaspar,  ma  !     Nezvspapers  !     Out  East  !  ' ' 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  why  he  should  n't.  Did  n't 
I  raise  him  ?  " 

"  Where  do  I  come  in,  Mercy  ?  " 

"  Wherever  you  can  catch  on,  Abel.  The  best 
place  I  can  see  for  you  to  take  hold  is  to  start  in 
an'  build  a  new  tavern, —  a  tavern  big  enough  to 
swing  a  cat  in.  Then  I  '11  have  a  place  to  keep  my 
sheets  an'  it  'II  pay  me  to  go  and  make  'em." 

"  How  'd  you  know  what  was  in  my  mind, 
Mercy?" 

"  Easy  enough.  Ain't  I  been  makin'  stirabout 
for  you  these  forty  years  ?  Don't  I  know  the  size 
of  your  appetite  ?  Can't  I  cal'late  the  size  of  your 
mind  the  same  way  ?  Why,  Abel,  I  can  tell  by  the 
way  you  brush  your  wisps " 

"  Ma,  I  '11  send  East  an'  buy  me  a  wig.  I  'low 
when  a  man's  few  hairs  can  tattle  his  inside  thoughts 
to  the  neighbors,  it  's  time  I  took  a  stand." 


Growing  Up.  299 

"  Well,  I  think  you  might  's  well.  I  think  you  'd 
look  real  becomin'  in  a  wig.  I  'd  get  it  red  and 
curly  if  I  was  you ;  and  you  'd  ought  to  wear  a 
bosomed  shirt  every  day.     You  really  had." 

"  Mercy  Smith !     Are  you  out  your  head  ?  " 

"  No.  But  when  a  man  's  the  first  tavern-keeper 
in  this  risin'  town  he  ought  to  dress  to  fit  his 
station.    I  always  did  like  you  best  in  your  dickeys. 

"  Shucks!     I  '11  wear  one  every  day." 

"  I  *m  goin'  to  give  up  homespun.  Calico  's  a 
sight  prettier  an'  we  can  afford  it.  We  're  real 
forehanded  now,  Abel." 

"  Hello!  Here  comes  Kit.  Let  's  ask  her  about 
the  tavern.  She  's  got  more  sense  in  her  little 
finger  than  most  folks  have  in  their  whole  bodies. 
She  's  a  different  woman  than  she  was  before  Wah- 
neeny  died.  I  shall  always  be  glad  you  an'  her  was 
reconciled  when  you  parted.  Hum,  hum.  Poor 
Wahneeny!  Poor  old  Doctor!  Well,  it  can't  be 
very  hard  to  die  when  folks  are  as  good  as  they 
was.     Right  in  the  line  of  duty,  too." 

"  Yes,  Abel;  but  all  the  same  I  'm  satisfied  to 
think  our  duty  laid  out  in  the  woods,  takin'  care 
Kit's  children,  'stead  of  here  amongst  the  sickness. 
Wonderful,  ain't  it,  how  our  girl  came  through?" 

"  She  '11  come  through  anything,  Sunny  Maid 
will;  right  straight  through  this  open  door  into  her 
old  Father  Abel's  arms,  eh  ?    Well,  my  dear,  what  's 


300  The  Sun  Maid. 

the  good  word  ?     How  's  Caspar  and  the  young- 
sters ?  " 

Well,  of  course.  We  are  never  ill;  but,  Mother 
Mercy,  I  heard  you  were  feeling  as  if  you  had  n't 
enough  to  do.  I  came  in  to  see  about  that.  It  's  a 
state  of  things  will  never  answer  for  our  Chicago, 
where  there  is  more  to  be  done  than  people  to  do 
it.  Did  n't  you  say  you  had  a  brother  out  East 
who  was  a  miller  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course.  Made  money  hand  over  fist. 
He  's  smarter  'n  chain  lightning,  Ebenezer  is,  if  I 
do  say  it  as  had  n't  ought  to,  bein'  I  *m  his 
sister." 

"  Well,  I  'd  like  his  address.  Caspar  wants  him 
here.  We  must  have  mills.  The  idea  of  our  using 
hand-mills  and  such  expedients  to  get  our  flour  and 
meal  is  absurd  for  these  days." 

"  Pshaw,  Kit!  'T  ain't  long  since  I  had  to  ride 
as  far  as  fifty  miles  to  get  my  grist  ground,  and 
when  I  got  there  there  'd  be  so  many  before  me, 
I  'd  have  to  wait  all  night  sometimes.  '  First 
come  first  served  '  is  a  miller's  saying,  and  they 
did  feel  proud  of  the  row  of  wagons  would  be  hitched 
alongside  their  places.      I " 

"  Come,  Abel,  don't  reminisce.  If  there  's 
one  thing  more  tryin'  to  a  body's  patience  than 
another,  it  's  hearin'  about  these  everlastin'  has- 
beens." 


Growing   Up.  301 

Abel  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  till  the 
room  rang. 

Hear  her,  my  girl!  Just  hear  her!  That  's  ma! 
That  's  Mercy !  She  's  caught  the  fever,  or  what- 
ever 't  is,  that  ails  this  town.  She  's  got  no  more 
time  to  hark  back.  It  's  always  get  up  and  go 
ahead.  What  you  think  ?  She  's  advising  me  to 
build  a  new  tavern.  Me !  Mercy  advising  it ! 
What  do  you  think  of  that  ?" 

"  That  it  's  a  capital  idea.  We  shall  need  it. 
We  shall  need  more  than  one  tavern  if  all  goes  well. 
And  it  will.  Now  that  the  Indians  are  gone  for- 
evei'," — here  Kitty  breathed  a  gentle  sigh, — "  the 
white  people  are  no  longer  afraid.  They  have  heard 
of  our  wonderful  country  and  our  wonderful  loca- 
tion,—  right  in  the  heart  of  the  continent,  with 
room  on  every  side  to  spread  and  grow  eternally, 
indefinitely." 

Kitty,  I  sometimes  think  you  an'  Caspar  are  a 
little  off  on  the  subject  of  your  native  town ;  for 
't  was  n't  his'n;  seein'  what  a  collection  of  disrepu- 
table old  houses  an'  mud  holes  an'  sloughs  of 
despond  there  's  right  in  plain  sight.  But  you  seem 
to  think  something  's  bound  to  happen  and  you 
two  '11  be  in  the  midst  of  it." 

The  Sun  Maid  laughed,  as  merrily  as  in  the  old 
days,  and  answered  promptly  : 

"  I've  never  found  any  sloughs  of  despond  and 


302  The  Sun  Maid. 

something  is  bound  to  happen.  Katasha's  dreams, 
or  prophecies,  whichever  they  were,  are  to  come 
true.  There  is  something  in  the  very  air  of  our 
lake-bordered,  wind-swept  prairie  that  attracts  and 
exhilarates,  and  binds.  That  's  it, — binds.  Once  a 
dweller  here  by  this  great  water,  a  man  is  bound  to 
return  to  it  if  he  lives.  Those  soldiers  who  have 
gone  away  from  us,  a  mere  handful,  so  to  speak, 
will  spread  the  story  of  our  beautiful  land  and  will 
come  again — a  legion.  It  is  our  dream  that  this 
little  pestilence-visited  hamlet  will  one  day  be  one 
of  the  marvels  of  the  world ;  that  to  it  will  as- 
semble people  from  all  the  nations,  to  whom  it  will 
be  an  asylum,  a  home,  and  a  treasure-house  for 
every  sort  of  wealth  and  wisdom.  In  my  fancies  I 
can  see  them  coming,  crowding,  hastening;  as  in 
reality  I  shall  some  day  see  them,  and  not  far  off; 
And  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  young  and  strong 
and  glorious — I  bid  them  welcome!  " 

She  stood  in  the  open  doorway  and  the  sunlight 
streamed  through  it,  irradiating  her  wonderful 
beauty.  The  two  old  people,  types  of  the  past, 
regarded  her  transfigured  countenance  with  feelings 
not  unmixed  with  awe,  and  after  a  moment  Abel 
spoke : 

"  Well,  well,  well!  Kitty,  my  girl.  Hum,  hum! 
You  yourself  seem  all  them  things  you  say.  Trouble 
you  've  had,  an'  sorrow  ;  the  sickness  an'  Wahneeny ; 


Growing  Up.  303 

an'  growin'  up,  an'  love  affairs;  an'  motherhood,  an' 
all;  yet  there  you  be,  the  youngest,  the  prettiest, 
the  hopefullest,  the  courageousest  creature  the 
Lord  ever  made.  What  is  it,  child ;  what  is  it 
makes  you  so  different  from  other  folks  ?  " 

"  Am  I  different,  dear  ?  Well,  Mother  Mercy, 
yonder,  is  looking  mystified  and  troubled.  She 
does  n't  half  like  my  prophetic  moods,  I  know.  I 
merely  came,  for  Caspar,  to  inquire  about  the  miller. 
But  I  like  your  own  idea  of  the  new  tavern,  and  you 
should  begin  it  right  away.  Gaspar  will  lend  you 
the  money  if  you  need  it;  and  if  you  have  time  for 
more  sheets  than  these,  Mercy  dear,  I  '11  send  you 
over  some  pieces  of  finer  muslin  and  you  might 
begin  on  a  lot  for  our  hospital." 

"  Your  hospital  ?  'T  ain't  even  begun  nor 
planned." 

"  Oh,  yes,  it  is  planned.  From  my  own  experi- 
ence and  from  books  I  can  guess  what  we  will  need. 
But  there  are  doctors  and  nurses  coming  after  a 
time —  There,  there,  dear.  I  will  stop.  I  won't 
look  ahead  another  step  while  I  'm  here.  But — it  's 
coming — all  of  it !  "  she  finished  gayly,  as  she  turned 
from  the  doorway  and  passed  down  the  forlorn  little 
street. 

Was  it  "  in  the  air,"  as  the  Sun  Maid  protested, 
that  indomitable  courage  and  faith  to  do  and  dare, 
to  plan,   to  begin,  and  to  achieve  ?      Certain  it  is 


304  The  Sun  Maid. 

that  in  five  years  from  that  morning  when  Kitty 
Keith  had  lingered  in  Mercy's  doorway  foretelling 
the  future  some,  at  least,  of  her  prophecies  had 
materialized.  Where  then  had  been  but  two  hun- 
dred citizens  were  now  more  than  twenty  times  that 
number.  The  "  crowding  "  had  begun;  and  there 
followed  years  upon  years  of  wonderful  growth ; 
wherein  Caspar's  cool  head  and  shrewd  business 
tact  and  ever-deepening  purse  were  always  to  the 
fore,  at  the  demand  of  all  who  needed  either.  In 
an  unswerving  singleness  of  purpose,  he  devoted  his 
energy  and  his  ambition  toward  rnaking  his  beloved 
home,  as  far  as  in  him  lay,  the  leading  home  and 
mart  of  all  the  civilized  world. 

And  the  Sun  Maid  walked  steadfastly  by  his  side, 
adding  to  his  efforts  and  ambitions  the  sympathy 
of  her  great  heart  and  cultured,  ever-broadening 
womanhood. 

Thus  passed  almost  a  quarter-century  of  years 
so  full  and  peaceful  that  nothing  can  be  written  of 
them  save  the  one  word  —  happy.  Yet  at  the  end 
of  this  long  time,  wherein  Abel  and  Mercy  had 
quietly  fallen  on  sleep  and  "  Kit's  little  tackers  " 
had  grown  up  to  be  themselves  fathers  and  mothers, 
the  Sun  Maid's  joy  was  rudely  broken. 

Not  only  hers,  but  many  another's;  for  a  drum- 
beat echoed  through  the  land,  and  the  sound  was  as 
a  death-knell. 


Growing-  Up.  305 

Kitty  looked  into  her  husband's  face  and  shivered. 
For  the  first  time  in  all  his  memory  of  her  the  Un- 
afraid grew  timid. 

"Oh,  Caspar!  War?  Civil  War!  A  family 
quarrel,  of  all  quarrels  the  most  bitter  and  deadly. 
Cod  help  us!  " 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

HEROES. 

THE  Sun  Maid's  gaze  into  her  husband's  face  was 
a  prolonged  and  questioning  one.  Before  it 
was  withdrawn  she  had  found  her  answer. 

There  was  still  a  silence  between  them,  which  she 
broke  at  last,  and  it  touched  him  to  see  how  pale 
she  had  become  and  yet  how  calm. 

"  You  are  going,  Caspar  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  love;  I  am  going.  Already  I  have 
pledged  my  word,  as  my  arm  and  my  purse." 

"  But,  my  dear,  do  you  consider  ?  We  are  grow- 
ing old,  even  we,  who  have  never  yet  had  time  to 
realize  it — till  now.  There  are  younger  men,  plenty 
of  them.     Your  counsels  at  home " 

"  Would  be  empty  words  as  compared  to  my 
example  in  the  field.  The  young  of  heart  are  never 
old.  Besides,  do  you  remember  that  once,  against 
my  stubborn  will,  you  resisted  for  duty's  sake  ? 
We  have  never  regretted  it,  not  for  a  day.  More 
than  that,  when  our  first-born  came  to  us,  do  you 
remember  how  we  clasped  his  tiny  hand  and  re- 
solved always  to  lead  it  onward  to  the  right  ?  Lead 
306 


Heroes.  307 

it,  sweetheart.  We  vowed  never  to  say  to  him : 
'  Go!  '  to  this  or  that  high  duty;  but  rather,  still 
holding  fast  to  him,  say:  '  Come.'  There  is  such  a 
wide,  wide  difference  between  the  two." 

Then,  indeed,  again  she  trembled.  The  mother 
love  shook  her  visibly  and  a  secret  rejoicing  died  a 
sudden  death. 

"  '  Come,'  you  say.  But  they  are  not  here,  in 
our  own  unhappy  land.  Caspar  in  Europe,  Win- 
throp  in  South  America,  and  Hugh  in  Japan.  They 
are  better  so." 

*'  Are  they  better  there  ?  You  will  be  the  first  to 
say  '  no  '  when  this  shock  passes.  A  telegram  will 
summon  each  as  easily  as  we  could  call  them  from 
that  other  room — supposing  that  they,  your  sons, 
wait  for  the  call.  But  they  '11  not.  I  know  them 
and  trust  them.  They  are  already  on  the  railways 
and  steamships  that  will  bring  them  fastest ;  and  it 
will  truly  be  the  '  Come  with  me ! '  that  we  elected, 
for  we  shall  all  march  together." 

So  they  did;  and  it  was  the  Sun  Maid  herself, 
standing  proudly  among  her  daughters  and  daugh- 
ters-in-law, yet  more  beautiful  than  any,  who  fast- 
ened the  last  glittering  button  over  each  manly 
breast  and  flicked  away  an  imaginary  mote  from  the 
spotless  uniforms.  Then  she  stood  aside  and  let  them 
go;  two  by  two,  "  step,"  "  step  " — as  if  in  echo  to 
the  first  sound  which  had  greeted  her  own  baby  ear. 


3o8  The  Sun  Maid. 

But  as  they  passed  out  of  sight,  transgressing 
military  discipline  Caspar  turned ;  and  once  more 
the  black  eyes  and  the  blue  read  in  each  other's 
depths  the  unfathomable  love  that  filled  them. 
Then  he  was  gone  and  the  younger  Caspar's  wife 
lifted  to  her  own  aching  bosom  the  form  that  had 
sunk  unconscious  at  her  feet.  For  the  too  prescient 
heart  of  the  Sun  Maid  had  pierced  the  future  and 
she  knew  what  would  befall  her. 

Yet  before  the  gray  shadow  had  quite  left  her 
face  she  rallied  and  again  smiled  into  the  anxious 
countenances  bending  over  her. 

"  Now,  my  dears,  how  foolish  I  was  and  how 
wasteful  of  precious  time!  There  is  so  much  to  be 
done  for  them  and  for  ourselves.  Caspar's  business 
must  not  suffer,  nor  Son's  (as  she  always  called  her 
eldest),  nor  his  brothers'.  There  are  new  hospitals 
to  equip  and  nurses  to  secure.  Alas!  there  should 
be  a  Home  made  ready,  even  so  soon,  for  the 
widows  and  orphans  of  our  soldiers.  Let  us  organ- 
ize into  a  regular  band  of  workers;  just  ourselves,  as 
systematically  as  your  father  has  trained  us  to  be- 
lieve is  best.  There  are  six  of  us,  a  little  army  of 
supplies  and  reinforcements.  Though,  Honoria, 
my  daughter,  shall  I  count  upon  you  ?  " 

"  Surely,  Mother  darling,  though  not  here. 
Thanks  to  the  hospital  course  you  let  me  enjoy, 
I  can  follow  my  father  and  brothers  to  the  front.     I 


Heroes.  309 

am  a  trained  nurse,  you  know,  and  some  will  need 
me  there." 

The  Sun  Maid  caught  her  breath  with  a  little 
gasp.     Then  again  she  smiled. 

"  Of  course,  Honoria;  if  you  wish  it.  It  is  only 
one  more  to  give ;  yet  you  will  be  in  little  danger 
and  your  father  in  so  much  the  less  because  of  your 
presence.  Now  let  us  apportion  the  other  duties 
and  set  about  them." 

This  was  quickly  done;  and  to  the  mother  herself 
remained  the  assumption  of  all  monetary  affairs  in 
her  husband's  private  office  in  their  last  new  home; 
where,  when  they  had  removed  to  it,  she  had  in- 
quired : 

"  Why  such  a  palace,  Caspar,  for  two  plain, 
simple  folk  like  you  and  me  ?  It  is  big  enough  for 
a  barrack,  and  those  great  empty  '  blocks '  on  every 
side  remind  me  of  our  old  days  in  Mercy's  log  cabin 
among  the  woods." 

"  I  like  it,  dear.  There  will  be  room  in  this  big 
house  to  entertain  guests  of  every  rank  and  station 
as  they  should  be  entertained  in  our  dear  city. 
These  empty  squares  about  us  shall  keep  their  old 
trees  intact,  but  the  grounds  shall  be  beautified  by 
the  highest  landscape  art,  to  which  the  full  view  of 
our  grand  lake  will  give  a  crowning  charm.  When 
we  have  done  with  it  all  we  will  give  it  to  the  little 
children    for   a    perpetual    playground.      Even    the 


3IO  The  Sun  Maid. 

proposed  new  enlargement  of  the  city  Hmits  will 
hardly  encroach  upon  us  here." 

"  But  it  will,  Gaspar,  it  surely  will!  When  I 
hark  back,  as  Abel  used  to  say,  I  find  Katasha's 
prophecies  and  my  old  dreams  more  than  fulfilled. 
But  the  end  is  not  yet,  nor  soon." 

Now  that  her  daughters  were  scattered  to  their 
various  points  of  usefulness  and  the  Sun  Maid  was 
left  alone  with  Hugh's  one  motherless  child — 
another  Kitty — the  great  house  seemed  more  empty 
than  ever;  and  its  brave  mistress  resolved  to  people 
it  with  something  more  substantial  and  needy  than 
memories.  So  she  gathered  about  her  a  host  to 
whom  the  cruel  war  had  brought  distress  of  one 
form  or  another ;  while  out  among  the  trees  of  the 
park  she  erected  a  great  barrack,  fitted  with  every 
aid  to  comfort  and  convalescence.  This,  like  the 
mansion,  was  speedily  filled,  and  the  "  Keith 
Rest "  became  a  household  word  throughout  the 
land. 

The  war  which  wise  folk  augured  at  its  begin- 
ning, would  be  over  in  a  few  days  dragged  its 
weary  length  into  the  months,  and  though  for  a 
time  there  were  many  and  cheerful  letters,  these 
ceased  suddenly  at  the  last,  giving  place  to  one  brief 
telegram  from  Honoria:  "  Mother,  my  work  here 
is  ended.  I  am  bringing  home  your  heroes  — 
four." 


Heroes.  311 

Upon  the  hearth-rug,  Kitty  the  younger,  lay 
stretched  at  her  ease,  toying  with  the  sharp  nose  of 
her  favorite  colHe.  She  had  the  Sun  Maid's  own 
fairness  of  tint  and  the  same  wonderful  hair;  but 
her  eyes  were  dark  as  her  grandsire  Caspar's  and 
saw  many  things  which  they  appeared  not  to  see; 
for  instance,  that  one  of  the  numerous  telegrams 
her  busy  grandmother  was  always  receiving  had 
been  read  and  dropped  upon  the  floor.  Yet  this 
was  a  common  circumstance,  and  though  she  felt  it 
her  duty  to  rise  and  return  the  yellow  paper  to  the 
hand  which  had  held  it,  she  delayed  a  moment,  en- 
joying the  warmth  and  ease.  Then  Bruce,  the 
collie,  sat  up  and  whined, —dolefully,  and  so 
humanly,  it  seemed,  that  the  girl  also  sprang  up, 
demanding: 

"  Why,  Bruce,  old  doggie,  what  do  you  hear  ? 
What  makes  you  look  so  queer  ?  " 

Then  her  own  gaze  followed  the  collie's  to  her 
grandmother's  face  and  her  scream  echoed  through 
all  the  house. 

"Grandmother!  My  darling  Grandmother!  Are 
you— are  you  dead— dying— what " 

She  picked  up  the  telegram  and  read  it,  and  her 
own  happy  young  heart  faltered  in  its  rhythm. 

"Oh!  awful!  '  Bringing '—those  precious  ones 
who  cannot  come  of  themselves.  This  will  kill  her. 
I  believe  it  will  kill  even  me." 


312  The  Sun  Maid. 

But  it  did  neither.  After  a  space  the  rigidity  left 
the  Sun  Maid's  figure  and  her  staring  eyes  that  had 
been  gazing  upon  vacancy  resumed  intelh'gence. 
Rising  stififly  from  her  seat,  she  put  the  younger  Kit 
aside,  yet  very  gently  and  tenderly,  because  of  all 
her  race  this  was  the  dearest.  Had  not  the  child 
Caspar's  eyes  ? 

"  My  girl,  you  will  know  what  to  do.  I  am 
going  to  my  chamber,  and  must  be  undisturbed." 

Then  she  passed  out  of  the  cheerful  Hbrary  into 
that  "  mother's  room,"  where  her  husband  and  her 
sons  had  gathered  about  her  so  often  and  so  fondly 
and  in  which  she  had  bestowed  upon  each  her  fare- 
well and  especial  blessing.  As  the  portiere  fell 
behind  her  it  seemed  to  her  that  already  they  came 
hurrying  to  greet  her,  and  softly  closing  the  door 
she  shut  herself  in  from  all  the  world  with  them  and 
her  own  grief. 

For  the  first  time  in  all  her  life  the  Sun  Maid 
considered  her  own  self  before  another;  and  for 
hours  she  remained  deaf  to  young  Kitty's  pleading: 

"  Let  me  come  in,  Grandmother.  Let  me  come 
in.  1  am  as  alone  as  you — it  was  my  father,  too,  as 
well  as  your  son  !  " 

It  was  the  dawn  of  another  day  before  the  door 
did  open  and  the  mourner  came  out.  Mourner  ? 
One  could  hardly  call  her  that;  for,  though  the 
beautiful    face    was   colorless    and    the    eyes  heavy 


Heroes.  313 

with  unshed  tears,  there  was  a  rapt,  exalted  look 
upon  it  which  awed  the  grandchild  into  silence.  Yet 
for  the  first  tin:ie  she  was  startled  by  the  thought : 

We  have  lived  together  as  if  we  were  only  elder 
and  younger  sister,  for  she  has  had  the  heart  of  a 
child.  But  now  I  see — she  is,  indeed,  my  grand- 
mother— and  she  is  growing  old." 

Let  all  things  be  done  decently  and  in  order 
when  Caspar  and  the  boys  come  home,"  was  all  the 
direction  the  Sun  Maid  gave,  and  it  was  well  ful- 
filled. Yet,  because  she  could  not  bear  to  be  far 
apart  from  them,  she  sat  out  the  hours  of  watching 
in  the  little  ante-room  adjoining  the  great  parlor 
where  her  heroes  lay  in  state,  while  all  Chicago 
gathered  to  do  them  reverence. 

There  was  none  could  touch  her  grief,  not  one. 
It  was  too  deep.  It  benumbed  even  herself.  Per- 
haps in  all  the  land,  during  all  that  dreadful  time, 
there  was  no  person  so  afflicted  as  she,  who  had  lost 
four  at  a  blow.  But  she  rose  from  her  sorrow  with 
that  buoyant  faith  and  hopefulness  which  nothing 
could  for  long  depress. 

"  There  is  unfinished  work  to  do.  Caspar  left  it 
when  he  went  away,  kno\\ing  I  would  take  it  up  for 
him  if  he  could  never  do  it  for  himself.  There  is 
no  time  in  life  for  unavailing  sorrow.  Come,  Kitty, 
child.  Others  have  their  dead  to  bury,  let  us  go 
forth  and  comfort  them." 


314  The  Sun  Maid. 

Obedient  Kitty  went,  her  thoughts  full  of  wonder 
and  admiration : 

"  By  massacre,  famine,  pestilence,  and  the  sword! 
How  has  my  dear  '  Sun  Maid  '  been  chastened,  and 
how  beautifully  she  has  come  through  it  all !  She 
could  not  have  been  half  so  lovely  as  a  girl,  when 
Grandfather  met  and  wooed  her  that  morning  on 
the  prairie.  I  wonder  have  her  trials  ended  ?  or 
are  there  more  in  store  before  she  is  made  perfect  ? 
I  cannot  think  of  anything  still  which  could  befall 
her,  unless  I  die  or  her  beloved  city  come  to  ruin. 
Well,  I  '11  walk  with  her,  hand  in  hand,  and  if  I 
live,  I  '11  be  as  like  her  as  I  can." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

CONCLUSION. 

"  "\  17"  HAT  shall  we  do  to  celebrate  your  birth- 
VV  day,  my  child?"  asked  Grandmother 
Kitty,  early  in  that  first  week  of  October  on  whose 
Saturday  the  young  girl  would  reach  to  the  dignity 
of  sixteen  years.  "  All  the  conditions  of  your  life 
are  so  different  from  mine  at  your  age:  seeming  to 
make  you  both  older  and  younger — if  you  under- 
stand what  I  mean — that  I  would  like  to  hear  your 
own  wishes." 

"  They  shall  be  yours.  Grandma  dearest.  You 
always  have  such  happy  ideas.  I  'd  like  yours 
best." 

"  No,  indeed!  Not  this  time.  I  want  every- 
thing to  be  exactly  as  you  like  this  year;  especially 
since  you  are  now  to  assume  the  main  charge  of 
some  of  our  charities." 

"  I  feel  so  unfitted  for  the  responsibility  you  are 
giving  me.  Sun  Maid.  I  'm  afraid  I  shall  make 
many  blunders." 

"  Does  n't  everybody  ?  And  is  n't  it  by  seeing 
wherein  we  blunder  and  avoiding  the  pitfall  a 
315 


3i6  The  Sun  Maid. 

second  time  that  we  learn  to  walk  surely  and 
swiftly  ?  You  have  been  well  trained  to  know  the 
value  of  the  money  which  God  has  given  you  so 
plentifully  and  of  that  loving  sympathy  which  is 
better  and  richer  than  the  wealth.  I  am  not  afraid 
for  you,  though  it  is  an  excellent  sign  that  you  are 
afraid  for  yourself.  Now  a  truce  to  sermons. 
Let  's  hear  the  birthday  wish.  I  am  getting  an  old 
lady  and  don't  like  to  be  kept  waiting." 

' '  Sunny  Maid !  you  are  not  old,  nor  ever  will  be !  " 

"  Not  in  my  heart,  darling.  How  can  I  feel  so 
when  there  is  so  much  in  life  to  do  and  enjoy?  I  have 
to  bring  myself  up  short  quite  often  and  remind  my- 
self how  many  birthdays  of  my  own  have  gone  by; 
though  it  seems  but  yesterday  that  Caspar  and  I 
were  standing  by  the  Snake-Who-Leaps  and  learn- 
ing how  to  hold  our  bows  that  we  might  shoot  skil- 
fully, even  though  riding  bareback  and  at  full 
speed,  yet " 

"  I  believe  that  you  could  do  the  very  same  still ; 
and  that  there  is  n't  another  old  lady " 

"  Let  me  interrupt  this  time.  Are  n't  you  con- 
tradicting yourself  ?  Were  you  speaking  of  '  old  ' 
ladies  ?  " 

"  You  funny  Grandma!  Well,  then,  I  don't  be- 
lieve there  's  another  young-old  person  in  this  great 
city  can  sit  a  horse  as  you  do.  If  you  would  only 
ride  somewhere  bcsi'lcs  in  our  own  park  and  just 


Conclusion. 


317 


for  once  let  people  see  you  !     How  m;iny  Snowbirds 
have  you  owned  in  your  lifetime,  Grandmother  ?  " 

"  One  real  Snowbird,  with  several  imitations. 
Still,  they  have  been  pretty  fair,  for  Caspar  selected 
them  and  he  was  a  fine  judge  of  horseflesh.  You 
must  remember  that  as  long  as  he  was  with  mc  we 
rode  together  anywhere  and  everywhere  he  wished. 
He  was  a  splendid  horseman." 

He  was  *  splendid  '  in  all  things,  was  n't  he.  Sun 
Maid  ?"  asked  the  girl,  with  a  lingering  tenderness 
upon  the  other's  Indian  name  and  knowing  that  it 
still  was  very  pleasant  in  the  ears  of  her  who  owned  it. 

"  He  was  a  man.  He  had  grown  to  the  full 
stature  of  a  man.  That  covers  all.  But  let  's  get 
back  to  birthday  wishes.     What  are  they  ?  " 

"  They  're  pretty  big;  all  about  the  new  '  Girls' 
Home  '  where  I  am  to  work  for  you.  I  think  if  the 
girls  knew  me,  not  as  just  somebody  who  is  richer 
than  they  and  wants  to  do  them  good,  but  as  an 
equal,  another  giddy-head  like  themselves,  it  would 
make  things  ever  so  much  easier  for  all  of  us.  I 
would  like  to  go  through  all  the  big  stores  and 
factories  and  places  and  find  out  every  single  girl 
who  is  sixteen  and  have  them  out  to  Keith  House 
for  a  real  delightful  holiday.  And  because  I  like 
boys,  and  presume  other  girls  do,  too —  Don't  stiffen 
your  neck,  please.  Grandmother;  remember  there 
were  you  and  Caspar " 


3i8  The  Sun  Maid. 

**  But  we  were  different." 

"  Maybe;  yet  these  girls  have  brothers,  and  I 
wish  I  had.  Never  mind,  though.  I  'd  like  to  in- 
vite them  all  out  here  for  Saturday  and  Sunday. 
On  Saturday  evening  we  'd  have  an  old-fashioned 
young  folks'  party,  with  games  and  frolics  such  as 
were  common  years  and  years  ago.  Then,  for  Sun- 
day, there  'd  be  the  ministers  who  are  to  stop  here 
during  that  convention  that 's  coming,  and  they  'd  be 
glad,  I  know,  to  speak  to  us  young  folks.  It  's  per- 
fect weather,  and  all  day  these  young  things  who  are 
shut  up  all  the  week  could  roam  about  the  park,  or 
read,  or  rest  in  the  picture-gallery  or  library,  and — 
eat." 

The  Sun  Maid  laughed. 

"  Do  you  really  stop  to  think  about  the  eating  ? 
How  many  do  you  imagine  would  have  to  be  fed  ? 
And  I  assure  you,  my  young  dreamer,  that,  though 
it  does  n't  sound  especially  well,  the  feeding  of  her 
guests  is  one  of  the  most  important  duties  of  every 
hostess.  But  I '11  take  that  part  off  your  hands.  You 
attend  to  the  spiritual  and  moral  entertainment  and 
I  '11  order  the  table  part.  Yet  your  plan  calls  for 
many  sleeping  accommodations.    How  about  that  ?  " 

"  I  thought.  Grandmother,  maybe  you  'd  let  me 
open  the  'Barrack  '  again.  That  would  do  for  the 
boys,  and  there  's  surely  room  enough  in  this  great 
house  for  all  the  girls  who  'd  care  to  stay." 


Conclusion. 


319 


A  shadow  passed  over  the  Sun  Maid's  face,  but  it 
— passed.  In  a  moment  she  looked  up  brightly  and 
answered  as,  a  few  hours  later,  she  was  to  be  most 
thankful  she  had  done: 

"  Very  well.  After  the  war  was  over  and  I 
closed  it  I  felt  as  if  I  could  never  reopen  the  place. 
Though  Caspar  and  my  boys  never  saw  it,  some- 
how it  seemed  always  theirs.  I  suppose  because  it 
had  been  built  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  had 
fought  and  suffered  with  them.  Now  I  see  that 
this  was  morbid ;  and  I  am  glad  I  have  never  torn 
the  building  down,  as  I  have  sometimes  thought  I 
would.  You  may  have  it  for  your  friends  and 
should  set  about  airing  and  preparing  it  at  once. 
Also,  if  you  are  to  give  so  many  invitations,  you 
would  better  start  upon  them." 

"  Could  n't  I  just  put  an  advertisement  in  the 
papers  ?     That  's  so  easy  and  short." 

"  And — rude!  " 

"  Rude  ?" 

"  Yes.  There  would  be  no  compliment  in  a 
newspaper  invitation.  Would  you  fancy  one  for 
yourself  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed,  I  should  not.  That  rule  of  yours, 
to  '  put  yourself  in  his  place,'  is  a  pretty  good  one, 
after  all,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Now  order  the  carriage  and  I  '11  go  with 
you  on  your  rounds  and   make  a  list  as  we  do  so  of 


320  The  Sun  Maid. 

how  many  will  need  to  be  provided  for.     We  shall 
have  a  busy  week  before  us." 

But  a  happy  one,  Grandmother.  Your  face  is 
shining  already,  even  more  than  usual.  I  believe  in 
your  heart  of  hearts  you  love  girls  better  than  any- 
thing else  in  this  world." 

Maybe.      Except — boys." 

"  And  flowers,  and  animals.  How  they  will 
enjoy  the  conservatories!  And  it  would  n't  be 
wrong,  would  it,  to  have  out  the  horses  between 
times  on  Sunday  and  let  these  young  things, 
who  'd  never  had  a  chance,  see  how  glorious  a  feel- 
ing it  is  to  ride  a  fine  horse  ?  Just  around  the  park, 
you  know." 

**  Which  would  be  quite  as  far  as  most  of  them 
would  care  to  ride,  I  fancy,  for  there  are  very  few 
people  who  call  their  first  experience  on  horseback 
a  '  glorious  '  one." 

It  was  a  busy  week  indeed,  but  a  joyful  one,  full 
of  anticipation  concerning  the  coming  festivities. 
Never  had  the  Sun  Maid  appeared  younger  or 
gayer  or  entered  more  heartily  into  the  prepara- 
tions for  entertainment.  A  dozen  times,  maybe, 
during  those  mornings  of  shopping  and  order- 
ing and  superintending,  did  she  exclaim  with 
fervor : 

"  Thank  God  for  Gaspar's  money,  that  makes  us 
able  to  give  others  pleasure!  " 


Conclusion.  321 

Grandmother,  even  for  a  foreign  nobleman  you 
would  n't  do  half  so  much!  " 

"  Foreign  ?  No,  indeed.  To  all  their  due;  and 
to  our  own  young  Americans,  these  toilers  who  are 
the  glory  of  our  nation,  let  every  deference  be  paid. 
Did  you  write  about  the  orchestra  ?  That  was  to 
play  during  Saturday's  supper  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed.      I  believe  nothing  is  forgotten." 

To  the  guests,  who  came  at  the  appointed  time,  it 
certainly  did  not  seem  so;  and  almost  every  one 
was  there  who  had  been  asked. 

"  I  did  not  believe  that  there  could  be  found  so 
many  working  girls  in  Chicago  who  are  just  six- 
teen," cried  the  gay  young  hostess,  standing  upon 
the  great  stair  and  looking  down  across  the  wide 
parlor,  crowded  with  bright,  graceful  figures. 

"  I  did.  My  Chicago  is  a  wonderful  city,  child. 
But  I  do  not  believe  that  in  any  other  city  in  the 
world  could  be  gathered  another  such  assemblage. 
Typical  American  girls,  every  one.  May  God  bless 
them!  Their  beauty,  their  bearing,  even  their 
attire,  would  compare  most  favorably  with  any 
company  of  young  women  who  are  far  more  richly 
dowered  by  dollars.  And  the  boys;  even  with 
their  greater  shyness,  how  did  they  ever  learn  to  be 
so  courteous,  so " 

"  Oh,  my  Sun  Maid!  Answer  yourself,  in  your 
own  words.    '  It 's  in  the  air.   It  's  just — Chicago  ! '  " 


322  The  Sun  Maid. 

When  the  fun  was  at  the  highest,  there  came  a 
belated  guest  who  brought  news  that  greatly  dis- 
quieted the  elder  hostess,  though  none  of  the 
merrymakers  about  her  seemed  to  think  it  a  matter 
half  as  important  as  the  next  game  on  the  list. 

"  A  fire,  broken  out  in  the  city  ?  That  is  serious. 
The  season  is  so  dry  and  there  are  many  buildings 
in  Chicago  that  would  burn  like  kindHngs.  How- 
ever, let  us  hope  it  will  soon  be  subdued ;  and  there 
is  somebody  calling  you,  I  think." 

Although  anything  which  menaced  the  prosperity 
of  the  town  she  loved  so  well  always  disturbed  the 
Sun  Maid,  she  put  this  present  matter  from  her 
almost  as  easily  as  she  dismissed  the  youth  who 
had  brought  the  bad  tidings.  The  housing  and 
entertaining  of  Kitty's  guests  was  an  engrossing 
affair;  and  all  Sunday  was  occupied  in  these  duties; 
but  on  Sunday  night  came  a  time  of  leisure. 

It  was  then,  while  resting  among  her  girls  and 
discussing  their  early  departure  in  the  morning — 
which  their  lives  of  labor  rendered  necessary — that 
a  second  messenger  arrived  with  a  second  message 
of  disaster. 

"  There  's  another  fire  downtown,  and  it  's  burn- 
ing like  a  whirlwind  !  " 

"  We  have  an  excellent  fire  department,"  an- 
swered the  hostess,  with  confident  pride. 

"  It  can't  make  much  show  against  this  blaze.     I 


Conclusion.  323 

think  those  of    us    who  can  should    get    home    at 
once. 

The  Sun  Maid's  heart  sank.  The  coming  event 
had  cast  its  shadow  upon  her  and,  foreseeing  evil, 
she  replied  instantly : 

"  Those  who  must  go  shall  be  conveyed  at  once; 
but  I  urge  all  who  will  to  remain.  Keith  House  is 
as  safe  as  any  place  can  be  if  this  fire  continues  to 
spread.  It  is  not  probable,  even  at  the  best,  that 
any  of  you  will  be  wanted  at  your  employers'  in  the 
morning.  The  excitement  will  not  be  over,  even  if 
the  conflagration  is." 

The  company  divided.  There  were  many  who 
were  anxious  about  home  friends  and  hastened 
away  in  the  vehicles  so  hastily  summoned;  but 
there  were  also  many  whose  only  home  was  a 
boarding-house  and  who  were  thankful  for  the 
shelter  and  hospitality  offered.  Among  these  last 
were  some  of  the  young  men,  and  the  Sun  Maid 
summoned  them  to  her  own  office  and  discussed 
with  them  some  plans  of  usefulness  to  others. 

"  We  shall  none  of  us  be  able  to  sleep  to-night. 
I  have  a  feeling  that  we  ought  not.  I  wish,  there- 
fore, you  would  go  out  and  engage  all  the  teams 
you  possibly  can  from  this  neighborhood;  and  go 
with  them  and  their  drivers  to  the  threatened  dis- 
tricts, as  well  as  those  already  destroyed.  Our 
great  house  and  grounds  are   open  to  all.     Bring 


324  The  Sun  Maid. 

any  who  wish,  and  assure  them  that  they  will  be 
cared  for." 

"  But  there  may  be  thieves  among  them,"  ob- 
jected one  lad,  who  had  a  keener  judgment  of  what 
might  occur. 

There  is  always  evil  amid  the  good;  but  not 
for  that  reason  should  any  poor  creature  suffer. 
Remember  I  am  able  to  help  liberally  in  money, 
and  never  so  thankful  as  now  that  this  is  so.  Go 
and  do  your  best." 

They  scattered,  proud  to  serve  her,  and  thrilled 
with  the  excitement  of  that  awful  hour;  but  many 
were  amazed  to  find  that  after  a  brief  time  she  had 
followed  them  herself. 

The  younger  Kitty  pleaded,  though  vainly,  to 
prevent  her  grandmother's  departure,  for  the  Sun 
Maid  answered  firmly : 

"  You  are  to  take  my  place  as  mistress  here.  I 
will  have  the  old  coachman  drive  me  in  the  phaeton 
to  the  nearest  point  advisable.  I  must  be  on  the 
spot,  but  I  will  not  recklessly  risk  myself.  Only, 
my  dear,  it  is  our  city,  Caspar's  and  mine ;  al- 
most a  personal  belonging,  since  we  two  watched 
its  growth  from  a  tiny  village  to  the  great  town  it 
has  become.  Caspar  would  be  there  with  his  aid 
and  counsel.     I  must  take  his  place." 

There  were  many  who  saw  her,  and  will  forever 
remember  the    noble  woman,   standing  upright  in 


Conclusion.  325 

the  low  vehicle  at  a  point  where  two  ways  met; 
with  the  light  of  the  burning  city  falling  over  her 
wonderful  hair,  that  had  long  since  turned  snowy 
white,  and  bringing  out  the  beauty  of  a  face  whose 
loveliness  neither  age  nor  sorrow  could  dim. 

The  sadness  in  her  tender  eyes  deepened  as  she 
could  see  the  cruel  blaze  sweeping  on  and  on,  wiping 
out  home  after  home  and  hurling  to  destruction 
the  mighty  structures  of  which  she  had  been  so 
personally  proud. 

"  Oh,  I  have  loved  it,  I  have  loved  it!  Its  very 
paving-stones  have  been  dear  to  me,  and  it  is  as  if 
all  these  fleeing,  homeless  ones  were  my  own  chil- 
dren. Well,  it  is — Chicago, — a  city  with  a  mission. 
It  cannot  die.  Let  the  fire  do  its  worst ;  not  all 
shall  perish.  There  are  things  which  cannot  burn. 
Again  and  again  and  again  I  have  thanked  God 
for  the  wealth  he  led  my  Caspar,  the  penniless  and 
homeless,  to  gain  —  for  His  own  glory.  Let  the 
flames  destroy  unto  the  limit  He  has  set.  Out  of 
their  ruins  shall  rise  another  city,  fairer  and  lovelier 
than  this  has  been;  richer  because  of  this  purifica- 
tion and  far  more  tender  in  its  broad  welcome  to 
humanity." 

Hour  after  hour  she  waited  there,  directing,  com- 
forting, assisting;  giving  shelter  and  sustenance, 
and,  best  of  all,  the  influence  of  her  high  faith  and 
indomitable  courage.      As  it  had  done  before,  her 


326  The  SunMaid, 

clear  sight  gazed  into  the  future  and  beheld  the 
glory  that  should  be;  and,  like  every  prophecy  her 
tongue  had  ever  uttered,  this,  spoken  there  in  the 
very  light  of  her  desolation,  as  it  were,  has  already 
been  more  than  verified. 

This  all  who  knew  the  Beautiful  City  as  it  was 
and  now  know  it  as  it  is  will  cheerfully  attest;  and 
some  there  are  among  these  who  deem  it  their 
highest  privilege  to  go  sometimes  to  a  stately  man- 
sion, set  among  old  trees,  where  in  a  sunshiny 
chamber  sits  an  old,  old  lady,  who  yet  seems  per- 
ennially young.  Her  noble  head  still  keeps  its 
heavy  crown  of  silver,  her  eye  is  yet  bright,  her  in- 
tellect keen,  and  her  interest  in  her  fellow-men  but 
deepens  with  the  years. 

Very  like  her  is  the  younger  Kitty,  who  is  never 
far  away  ;  who  has  grown  to  be  a  person  of  influence 
in  all  her  city's  beneficence;  and  who  believes  that 
there  was  never  another  woman  in  all  the  world  like 
her  grandmother. 

"  Yes,"  she  assures  you  earnestly,  "  she  is  the 
Sun  Maid  indeed, —  a  fountain  of  delight  to  all 
who  know  her.  She  has  still  the  heart  of  a  child 
and  a  child's  perfect  health.  I  confidently  expect 
to  see  her  round  her  century." 

THE   END. 


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